


Camellia

by dojaegay



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Alternate Universe - Witchcraft, Coming of Age, Developing Relationship, Love Triangles, M/M, Romantic Friendship, Unspecified Setting, dojae are endgame, slight yutae
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-08
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 33,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21718648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dojaegay/pseuds/dojaegay
Summary: “Kid,” the man interrupts him again. “I’ll be fine. Go home, it’s getting late.”Jaehyun frowns, but he gives in. “Fine. I hope you get home safely,” he tells him as he prepares to pedal again.“You too,” the man says, his red hair shining under the unusually bright moonlight. “And kid,” he calls him one last time, “remember what I said about danger on these roads.”“There’s never been any danger here before.”“Yeah, well,” he grins, and for a split second, Jaehyun is scared. “There’s never been someone like me in this town before either.”
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Nakamoto Yuta, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 62
Kudos: 199





	1. Daisy

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly never thought this day would come but here we are!! I'm finally posting this son of a bitch, or at least I'm going to try!! 
> 
> Before anything else, I want to thank [Tahlia](https://twitter.com/rainyjaem), my beta reader and best friend, for everything she has ever done for me. Thanks for putting up with me, you're my favorite person and I love you mostest.
> 
> And now I want to ask you, if you're even reading this (if you aren't I don't blame you, who tf has time to read the author's notes anyway??) please be patient with me!! I would like to update this fic regularly, but I'm a pretty busy university student and it might take me a while to be able to write something worthy.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Daisy_ : innocence, loyal love, purity

These nights are always tranquil. Not a sound can be heard, except for the occasional hooting and meowing. A soft summer breeze caresses the tree leaves, ruffling them. This creates a faint noise, like a hiss, almost hypnotic in its steadiness. The temperature is perfect, stable. It’s usual for the town’s residents to sleep with their windows wide open, letting the lulling current—and, unknowingly, other things—in. 

Tonight, the calm is disrupted, although only those who know where to look can tell. There’s nothing strange about the black car that parks outside the old abandoned Myeong family estate. There’s nothing strange about the driver, who helps unload the trunk obediently.

The passenger, however, is a different case. He’s far from the strangest being that has set foot in this town, but he is different, unique. In its more than 500 years of history, this town has never been visited by a creature like him—the residents made sure of it. His sole presence is an act of defiance, of provocation. 

The temperature goes down by several degrees the moment his boot meets the overgrown grass of his new garden. 

In the comfort of his bedroom, Jaehyun startles awake, covered in a thin layer of sweat. Still half-asleep, he stands up and walks to the window, which he closes in a trained and swift motion—it’s muscle memory after almost two decades of living in the same house. 

He goes back to bed, regaining sleep almost immediately.

⚕

The next time he wakes, it’s to the penetrating sound of his phone buzzing incessantly right next to his ear. He reaches for it blindly, almost dropping it, and holds it so close to his face it bumps his nose. The ID says Doyoung, obviously. He picks up.

“Hello?” His voice is groggy, heavy with sleep.

“Jesus Christ, Jaehyun,” Doyoung swears, ever so blasphemous. “It’s almost noon.”

“And?” He pushes his upper body up, rubbing his face with his free hand. “It’s summer break.”

On the other end of the line, Doyoung sighs. “Whatever,” he gives up. “Just get out of bed, I’m on my way.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes. “Give me one good reason to do so.” 

Doyoung curses. “Just get your ass out of bed before I have to drag you out myself.”

“Fine!” Jaehyun groans, but he can’t help the smile that’s growing on his face. “I’ll see you in ten.”

Doyoung hangs up without another word. 

By the time Doyoung reaches his house, Jaehyun has somehow managed to convince his mother to make them brunch. He’s munching on his toast when his best friend barges in without bothering to knock. He gained that privilege years ago, and no one bats an eye when he walks in the kitchen of the Jung home and pours himself a glass of apple juice (especially since Mr. Jung is out of town). 

“Morning,” Jaehyun grins at him. 

Doyoung sticks his tongue out, but there’s no malice in it. “It’s afternoon, almost.”

“It’s not my fault your sleeping schedule is that of a retired grandmother,” Jaehyun teases him. “I, for one, value a good old sleeping marathon.”

Doyoung opens his mouth to fight back, but Jaehyun’s mother is faster. “Boys,” she warns them. “Why don’t you waste your energy on something more productive than useless bickering?”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes, but he drops the argument anyway. “We could go to the Memorial Square,” he suggests, as if they haven’t been doing exactly that every day for the past month. That’s what they both like about summer days—the nothingness, the impossibly slow rhythm, the endless days and shortened nights. Summer in their town feels like the world has come to a halt.

Doyoung shrugs, stuffing his mouth with a banana. “Sure,” he agrees. “But I recommend you take a shower first.”

Jaehyun throws him an orange. 

“Can you take me home?” Doyoung asks hours later, once they’ve both had enough of doing absolutely nothing at all. The Square is almost entirely empty sans for the two of them and an obnoxiously loud couple who are lying on the freshly mowed grass, exchanging spit. 

This is normal for them, even after 18 years. Doyoung and Jaehyun, Jaehyun and Doyoung—a package deal—always together and always the last ones to leave. It isn’t that Jaehyun doesn’t have any other friends—quite the contrary, really, considering he is a social butterfly, a people pleaser—but that Doyoung is the only one he was willing to put up with for an entire day, if not longer. It isn’t rare for them to spend the night at each other’s houses, even after Doyoung entered adulthood, over a year ago. 

“When have I ever not taken you home?” Jaehyun replies, already walking towards his bike, parked near a tree. 

Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he follows Jaehyun nonetheless. He always will. “I distinctly recall you leaving me stranded in the middle of the deserted road to my house not that long ago.”

Jaehyun chuckles, remembering the incident. “You kept trying to pinch my stomach! Besides, I came back for you, didn’t I?” He pulls his bike up, throwing one leg over it and positioning himself on the seat.

Doyoung plants one foot on both sides of the back wheel—where Jaehyun’s mom had nailed two iron tubes for them to stand on—before wrapping his arms around Jaehyun’s chest. 

_Well that’s strange_ , Jaehyun thinks. Usually, Doyoung simply holds onto his shoulders, digging his fingers painfully and overall bothering and pestering him during the entire ride. For him to show unprompted affection is strange, especially on days like this one, where Jaehyun’s mere existence seems to irritate him. 

“Uhm,” Jaehyun opens his mouth to comment on it, but decides against it on the last second. “Let’s go.”

“Hurry up,” Doyoung mumbles, his arms around Jaehyun’s middle. The position forces him to rest his chest against his best friend’s back, and Jaehyun can feel every time he takes a breath and releases it. 

“Okay, okay,” Jaehyun starts pedalling, leaving the ancient square behind.

Given the size of their modest town’s center, it doesn’t take long until the stone buildings and concrete floors give way to tall trees and flower fields. In the dead of the night, the sounds coming from the cicadas are almost deafening, but they somehow make Jaehyun feel at home. This is where he belongs, he thinks, in this irrelevant town, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by potentially harmful wildlife and irritating insects, with Doyoung’s head on his shoulder.

The road that leads to Doyoung’s house is the same one that ends on the doorstep of Jaehyun’s. That’s how they had met all those years ago, on their way to school. Perhaps it had been the fact that Doyoung was older, or maybe it had been his dominant presence (even at age 6), but it had only taken a couple of days for Jaehyun to start clinging to him like a leech. At first his company had irked the older boy deeply, but it didn’t take long until those dimpled smiles and peachy cheeks won him over. Before either of them knew, they were walking side by side to class everyday, and in less than a year they had become inseparable. 

“We’re here,” Jaehyun announces as they approach their first stop.

Doyoung’s house is, for lack of a better word, old. The exterior walls are covered in vines and moss, and the wood creaks so loudly Jaehyun swears he can hear it from his own house. The windows are permanently fogged, the glass covered in years worth of dirt. However, looks can deceive, and this house is a perfect example. Jaehyun has never felt more welcomed and loved than in that fossil of a house, with its broken toilets, malfunctioning appliances and unhinged doors. Its inhabitants are nowhere near ordinary either. Doyoung’s family is what some would consider dysfunctional, but Jaehyun prefers the term _unique_. Having lost his parents at a very young age, Doyoung found himself under the legal guardianship of his young and handsome uncle, Taeil, until he turned 18 last year. Taeil’s job is some sort of homeopath, doing house calls and meeting patients inside his own home. Everyone knows he isn’t a doctor of any sort, but his methods seem to work, so they let him do his work as peacefully as one can in a town who seems to be fuelled by gossip. Aside from Doyoung and his funny uncle, two other men habit that same house—the eccentric cousin who has all the women in town lovestruck, Kun, and his eager-to-learn younger brother, Xiaojun.

And, of course, there had been Taeyong. Jaehyun doesn’t want to think about that.

“Thanks,” Doyoung’s sleepy voice pulls him out of his thoughts. His friend untangles himself from Jaehyun and jumps off the bike clumsily, letting out a dignified huff after almost falling on his face. 

“Don’t stay up too late,” Jaehyun teases him with a boyish grin. They both know his efforts are fruitless—Doyoung will probably stay awake until four in the morning, only to wake up three hours later. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” Doyoung replies, walking up to his younger friend. With two boney hands, he holds Jaehyun’s face before pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. Too shocked to move, Jaehyun simply stands there, sitting on his bike with an astonished look on his face.

“What’s gotten into you?” He shrieks as he wipes his cheek fervently, snapping out of his trance.

“Stay safe,” Doyoung tells him as he walks up the stairs to the door. “You know the road can be dangerous.”

Jaehyun snorts. “Yeah, I could run into your crazy cousin.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes one last time before walking inside and closing the door with a loud slam.

⚕

“Thank God you’re here,” is the first thing Taeil says to him once Doyoung walks into the kitchen. He’s sitting on his usual seat, at the head of the table, with a huge mug of tea in front of him. Doyoung can smell the wolfsbane from where he’s standing.

“Is there something wrong?” He asks, taking a seat beside his uncle. The chair is warm, which means Taeil had company until not too long ago. Kun must be in the house as well, then.

“Something is very wrong, yes,” Taeil confirms, taking a sip of his tea—which is, in fact, a potion, and a protective one at that, judging by the few ingredients Doyoung can recognize. 

“Tell me,” Doyoung requests. He knows that Taeil is prone to exaggerating and overreacting, but he is also aware that his uncle is a very powerful and respected witch, and if he says something is wrong, then something must definitely be wrong, no matter how insignificant.

“Can’t you smell it?” He looks at Doyoung with genuine surprise, perhaps even a tinge of concern. 

“What, the wolfsbane? I can’t believe you’re drinking that, it smells so strong… Are you preparing a protection spell?” 

“Oh, I definitely am,” Taeil confirms. “But that’s not what I was referring to. The air… it carries a scent of death.”

“Death?!” Doyoung feels his blood run cold. Taeil is very talented in many fields of magic, but he was born with a very particular gift—clairvoyance. The possibility that he may be sensing someone’s passing is very real, and it scares Doyoung to, well, death. “You mean, someone is going to die?”

“No,” Taeil shakes his head. Outside, the cicadas play their ear-splitting song, although it has become almost lulling. It’s grounding, in a way, a reminder that no matter how crazy Doyoung’s life may be, cicadas will always be cicadas and nothing more. 

“So what is it, then?”

“It’s not that someone is going to die, it’s that someone is already dead,” he says, looking straight into Doyoung’s eyes. 

“W-what?” Doyoung isn’t sure he understands. “Like, a corpse? You can smell a decaying corpse?”

Taeil opens his mouth, but he never gets the chance to speak. “Taeil,” a stern voice cuts in. Kun walks in the room and sits at the other end of the table, across from the head of their Coven. He’d pronounced Taeil’s name like a warning, although Doyoung isn’t sure exactly why. 

But just as easy as the tension had come, it dissipates. Taeil nods, agreeing with Kun on whatever that silent argument had been, while Kun flashes his favorite cousin a warm smile.

“Did you have fun today?” He asks, pouring himself some tea as well. Doyoung nods, returning the smile. There’s something about Kun, this aura or energy, that gives everyone he meets a sense of belonging. When you’re with Kun, you’re as comfortable as you would be with your mother. 

“Yeah, it was just another uneventful Summer day.”

“Ah, Summer,” Kun shakes his tea in circular motions, blowing on it before taking a short sip. “Full of possibilities,” he winks at Doyoung. “By the way, I saw that kiss from the window.”

“What kiss?!” Taeil joins the conversation again, always a fan of juicy gossip, especially if it involves his nephew.

“Oh, God,” Doyoung buries his face in his hands. “Don’t start. I was just casting a protection charm.”

“Oldest excuse in the book,” Kun teases him. “Come up with a new one if you refuse to acknowledge your feelings, kid.”

Doyoung’s forehead hits the table with a loud bang as his two elders laugh loudly, amused.

“To be honest,” Kun begins again, “if I had a friend as precious as Jaehyun, I would cast a million charms on him too,” he brushes Doyoung’s fringe out of his eyes. “And kiss his cheeks, of course. They look impossibly succulent.”

After that comment, Doyoung slaps his hand away, kicking his chair behind him and storming out of the room. “Nosy hags!” He screams as he walks up the stairs to his room, stomping angrily on the abused wooden steps. His family’s laughter rings through the thin walls.

Once he reaches his room, he makes sure to slam the door as hard as he can without throwing it off its hinges, sending a very clear message that he was done socializing with his family for the day. He throws himself on the bed and spends a long minute screaming into his pillow, cursing himself for his stupidity.

Why the hell had he kissed Jaehyun? He could have cast the charm just as efficiently without skin on skin contact, and it definitely didn’t need to involve lips. 

It’s getting harder to ignore the yearning in his heart, Doyoung knows. It’s always loudest during the summer, when his heart is subjected to attack after attack—Jaehyun’s sleepy smile in the morning after a sleepover, the freckles on his nose painted by the sunlight, the sound of his laughter as they race on their bikes... 

As he fights his fantasies, Doyoung’s screaming only gets louder.

⚕

The wind ruffles Jaehyun’s auburn hair as he pedals home. He can still feel Doyoung’s lips on his cheek, and he can’t help but wonder what on earth his friend had been thinking. It’s not that the kiss wasn’t welcome, per se, but that it was completely unwarranted.

Jaehyun tries to keep these thoughts out of his head as he focuses on the road. There are no streetlights to guide him, which means that he has to rely on memory alone. It doesn’t intimidate him, however, because he has walked, pedalled, ran and driven down this same path every single day for the past seventeen and a half years. 

However, memory can’t protect him against stranded drivers with their lights off. 

“Watch out!” An unfamiliar voice warns him, causing him to grip the breaks so hard his back wheel almost leaves the floor. 

“Dude!” Jaehyun squeals, gripping his chest in an attempt to calm his pounding heart. He squints his eyes trying to find the owner of the voice, but he sees nothing. “You scared the shit out of me,” he gasps. “You should turn your lights on.”

Suddenly, a source of light appears in front of Jaehyun. It’s a flashlight, directed straight at his face, but it only lasts a couple of seconds before it turns upwards, bringing light to a face Jaehyun has never seen before, but will never forget.

“Should I?” The man asks sarcastically. He’s impossibly beautiful, in a sort of domineering way. All his features are prominent—a chiseled jaw, sharp grin, straight nose and big eyes—but they create a perfect harmony on his face. His hair is bright red, something Jaehyun has never seen before, and from his ears hang what must be a dozen dangly earrings. Behind him stands a vintage 60s black car, the engine turned off. “I mean, you’re the first person I’ve seen in hours. I was starting to wonder if I had ventured into a parallel dimension.”

Jaehyun blinks once, twice, then returns to consciousness. “Uh,” he stutters, still dazed, “well, this road is mostly deserted. There are only two houses on it.”

The man frowns. “No, there are three.”

Jaehyun doesn’t understand. He has lived in this town his entire life, met every neighbour, walked down every path, but he has never heard of a third house standing on this road, his road. There’s no way. He would’ve known. “No, there are two,” he argues back, mentally chiding himself for sounding so childish.

The man cackles loudly. He has a strange laugh, not necessarily pretty, but so characteristic that Jaehyun thinks he could recognise it in a crowd full of howling laughter. “Then I guess I must have moved into a nonexistent house.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. A newcomer? “You moved here?” The man nods, walking backwards to sit on the roof of his car. 

Jaehyun has never met a newcomer before. He can’t even wrap his head around the idea of someone, especially someone like this man, wanting to move into this forgotten town, doomed to fade into nothingness in only a few decades. Besides, it’s impossible for him to have moved into a house on this road. There are only two—his and Doyoung’s—, and if there’s anything Jaehyun knows for a fact, it’s that his mother would never let someone with bright red hair and pierced ears move into her home.

“My new home is a bit, how do I put it, battered. The former owner informed me that it used to be a popular hangout spot among reckless teenagers,” he flashes Jaehyun a lopsided smile, as if daring him to admit that he was one of those teenagers. “Apparently they would perform amateur satanic rituals. I sincerely hope they didn’t succeed.”

Jaehyun’s brow furrows. Satanic rituals? “Wait,” realization suddenly dawns on him. “You moved into the Myeong estate?” He asks, incredulous. “That house has been empty for almost a century. Why did you even think of buying it?”

The man shrugs. “It possesses a certain charm, I believe. I’ve always been a great fan of good spooky stories. And it’s as far away as possible from the town centre and all its vipers and vultures.”

Jaehyun chuckles. As baffling as moving into the Myeong estate might seem for him, he can’t help but agree that their town’s inhabitants are not exactly enlightening company. “Oh!” He suddenly remembers why he stopped in the first place. “Do you need help getting home? It looks like your car broke down.”

“Yes,” the man confirms, “it did. Although I don’t see how a kid with a bike can be of much help.” His words are what could be considered insulting, but he pronounces them so casually, so harmlessly, that Jaehyun can’t find it in himself to be offended. “What are you even doing here? I’m sure these deserted roads can get dangerous for such a pretty boy like you,” he winks, earrings clinking. “You don’t know what kind of evil lurks here.”

Jaehyun laughs with his belly. “If that were the case, I would have been long gone. That’s my house,” he points to the end of the road, where his house is visible. The lights in the kitchen and living room are on, which means his mother is still awake. “Has been for 18 years.”

“Wow,” the man follows Jaehyun’s finger. “What a nice house. Looks very homey,” he slaps his thighs before standing up and walking away from his car. “Speaking of, you should get going now.”

“But you need help—“

“I’ll manage,” he cuts Jaehyun off, giving him a confident smirk. “Don’t worry about me, I’ve been taking care of myself for a long time.”

Jaehyun scratches the back of his head. It feels wrong to leave this man, his new neighbor, stranded in the middle of their lonely road in the dead of the night, but then again there isn’t much he can do. “I can call—”

“Kid,” the man interrupts him again. “I’ll be fine. Go home, it’s getting late.”

Jaehyun frowns, but he gives in. “Fine. I hope you get home safely,” he tells him as he prepares to pedal again.

“You too,” the man says, his red hair shining under the unusually bright moonlight. “And kid,” he calls him one last time, “remember what I said about danger on these roads.”

“There’s never been any danger here before.”

“Yeah, well,” he grins, and for a split second, Jaehyun is scared. “There’s never been someone like me in this town before either.”

⚕

_It was a lovely Spring morning, the day Doyoung realized he was in love. The sun shone over them as Jaehyun pretended to be asleep while Doyoung read. He skimmed over the words, barely able to comprehend them even though they were written in his mother tongue—one of the many he spoke. Eventually, he decided to put the book down, bookmarking it with a simple spell._

_Jaehyun—now genuinely asleep—let out a soft moan after feeling Doyoung’s movements and stirred before welcoming profound sleep again._

_Doyoung laid his entire body down beside his best friend’s so that their sides met. His wrist brushed Jaehyun’s, who made no sound of discomfort. His beautiful face glistened under the sunlight, so full of youth and energy and future. Doyoung could almost tell where his smile wrinkles would show many years later, and resisted the urge to trace them with his finger tip._

_He observed silently for a long time, just taking in the features that composed Jaehyun’s face, a face he was more familiar with than his own. He knew every sharp line and curve that constituted Jaehyun’s handsome face, yet he could never grow tired of studying it. It was as if he found something new during every inspection—a new freckle, the faint promise of a wrinkle, a new colored spot in his honey irises._

_Suddenly, Jaehyun smiled. This feature Doyoung was intimately familiar with—he could not remember a time when Jaehyun’s smile wasn’t part of his day, part of his heart. His characteristic dimples made an appearance, looking even more prominent thanks to the sunlight. It was at that moment that Doyoung understood._

_He would sacrifice all his blood, cast every forbidden spell in the books, even give up his magic just to see Jaehyun smile again, even if it were just once._

_Before speaking, Jaehyun let out a tiny laugh. “You’re watching me,” he stated, not asked._

_Doyoung propped himself up on one elbow. “I am,” he didn’t bother denying it._

_His hand fell on the side of Jaehyun’s face, which he caressed impossibly gentle. He brushed his overgrown bangs out of his forehead and caressed his cheek like he had done so many times before, except this time the words he traced on Jaehyun’s terse skin had a different meaning—even though they were the same three._

_Jaehyun’s eyes remained closed, even when Doyoung bent down, his face millimeters away from his best friend’s. He let out a shaky breath that he had no doubt Jaehyun had felt before pressing their lips together in a soft and short kiss. It lasted no more than a few seconds and it was nothing but a brush of two inexperienced mouths, but Doyoung felt something in his heart shift._

_He pulled away slowly, only to find Jaehyun staring up at him curiously. Doyoung blushed bright red and let go of Jaehyun’s body, resting himself on the grass again and avoiding his friend’s gaze._

_They never spoke of it again._

Doyoung jolts awake. His forehead is covered in cold sweat, and the cotton sheets cling to his damp body in a viper grip. Outside, it’s still dark, dark enough for his eyes to take a few minutes to adjust. He looks to his right, where a digital clock sits, and confirms his suspicions. 

3:33 am. Just like every single night for the past few months. 

He sits up, kicking the sheets away, and throws his legs over the mattress. He sits on the edge of the bed, brushing his soggy hair with his hands. 

He tries not to think about his dream as he walks to the bathroom, but as soon as he turns on the light and finds his own face in the mirror, his eyes fall to his lips. 

Despite having shared that kiss years ago—and having buried it in the back of his mind since then—, Doyoung remembers the touch of Jaehyun’s lips against his as if it had been yesterday. He brings his fingers to his mouth and pinches his bottom lip. It’s rosy and a bit dry, and so different to Jaehyun’s that Doyoung can’t help but wonder how their mouths had felt so good against each other. Jaehyun’s lips are plump, soft and pink, and Doyoung sees them—kisses them—every single night, has been doing so for almost a year. He can’t even remember when it started, this infatuation with Jaehyun, but he suspects that it’s something that has always been there. At first, it scared the shit out of him—him, a witch, even if he was one of Light, in love with a weak, powerless human. The possibilities of him outliving Jaehyun are almost a hundred to one, if he doesn’t kill Jaehyun himself accidentally. Still, he can’t fight it, can’t help it. 

Doyoung loves Jaehyun. That is an absolute truth. 

“What the hell are you doing?” A whiny voice startles him out of his trance. 

“Jesus!” He jumps, clutching his chest. 

Clinging to the door frame is Xiaojun, his youngest cousin. His dark brown hair is ruffled from sleep and his eyes have trouble staying open. “It’s 3 in the morning,” he complains. “Go to sleep.”

“I had a nightmare,” Doyoung tells him. It’s not the truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either.

“Not my problem,” Xiaojun gives him a characteristically bratty reply. “The bathroom is right across my bedroom. The light woke me up.”

Doyoung sighs, but he understands his cousin’s discontent. “You’re right,” he agrees. “Let me wash my face and I’ll go back to sleep.”

Xiaojun nods. “Alright,” he turns around to leave, but he remembers something midway and looks at Doyoung over his shoulder. “You should fix whatever it is that troubles you soon, by the way,” he says. He’s always had a bit of a smart mouth. “I can see the grey cloud almost swallow your entire head. Soon enough you’ll be a walking storm,” he warns before closing his door in Doyoung’s face.

Doyoung rolls his eyes, paying no mind to his over dramatic cousin. He opens the faucet and bends down to wet his face, rinsing all the sweat from before. He dries his face with one of their cheap, rough towels, before turning off the light and returning to his bedroom. 

Inside, the room is surprisingly chilly. It confuses Doyoung—five minutes ago he was sweating profusely, but now the room is cold enough for him to need a light jacket. 

That’s when he realizes—the window. On the right side of his room, the old window is wide open, its ancient hinges screeching. Puzzled, Doyoung walks towards it, wrapping his slender fingers around the glass. He peeks outside, as if looking for something (or someone) that could have opened the door while he was in the bathroom. However, the road is deserted, as expected, not that he can make out much in the dark. Doyoung can identify the smell of lavender and grass that comes from the fields that surround their house, but there’s no trace of _death_. Not that he would know what it smells like, anyway.

He closes the window before locking it, like he is sure he had done before, just a couple of hours ago, before going to bed.

⚕

“The way your uncle treats you like an errand boy is very amusing,” Jaehyun teases Doyoung, like he has done every single day for the past 12 years or so.

Doyoung scoffs. “You’re one to talk,” he fights back. “Your mother has made you go grocery shopping on your own every Saturday for the past ten years.”

Jaehyun snorts at Doyoung’s poor attempt at a comeback as he follows him through the narrow aisles of their town’s botany. It seemed nearly impossible, in the 21st century at least, to find a prolific botanic shop, but theirs was famous for the rarity of the products. Jaehyun doubts many people are in need of “Carnivorous Plant Wails”—he reads the jar’s tag aloud in a mocking manner that earns him a deathly stare from Doyoung—, but apparently a fair amount of physicians did, including Doyoung’s uncle. 

“20 grams of mandrake roots and a lotus flower, please,” Doyoung requests politely, resting his hands on the counter. 

“Fetch it, kid,” the shop owner, a peculiar man named Leeteuk, orders his assistant. The boy, a clumsy teen with jet black hair and the most genuine smile Jaehyun has ever seen, called Jeno, trips on his own feet as he quickly runs to grab the items Doyoung has asked for. 

At the sound of glass shattering and a panicked curse, Leeteuk lets out an audible sigh and pinches the bridge of his nose. “There isn’t a day that I don’t miss our Taeyong,” he breathes the name of his former assistant coated in memories. 

Doyoung stiffens suddenly, and Jaehyun can almost see the gears turning in his head, creating a perfectly calculated answer. One completely detached from his true emotions. “As we all do,” is what he comes up with. 

“Here they are,” Jeno comes back with the jars before Leeteuk gets another chance to prod at the subject. Doyoung visibly deflates, and he gives Jeno a thankful smile, his gums showing. 

“Put it on my uncle’s tab,” Doyoung says as he stuffs everything into his cloth bag and wraps a hand around his best friend’s slim wrist. “Thank you!” He bids both the owner and the assistant goodbye as he rushes out of the store, dragging Jaehyun with him. 

“Uhm,” Jaehyun calls his friend’s attention with a hesitant hum. “Can you please let go?” He asks, staring at the back of Doyoung’s head.

Doyoung halts immediately, turning around to look at Jaehyun. He’d stormed out of the shop so quickly that it was out of sight after less than a minute of walking. Jaehyun shakes his arm gently, pointing to his wrist with his chin. As if burnt, Doyoung releases Jaehyun’s arm, almost slapping it away. His cheeks flush with embarrassment, and he turns around just as fast as before, walking away with long strides. 

“Wait up, loser!” Jaehyun laughs, attempting to clear the tense mood. He skips to try and reach his friend faster, when something catches his attention all of a sudden. 

A bookstore, brand new, destined to misfire in this little ignorant town of theirs. And inside, his new neighbour. 

The display window is dusty and blurry due to old age, but his neighbour’s unmistakable red hair shines so brightly that it can’t be missed. He has a beautiful profile, Jaehyun ponders, this neighbour of his. His eyes are instantly drawn to a pair of plushy pink lips, which the man toys with and pinches as he reads the ancient book he’s holding. 

“Jaehyun!” He hears someone call him, a voice that is familiar in its sharpness, but Jaehyun cannot for the life of him concentrate on anything that isn’t this mysterious man.

Entranced, Jaehyun pushes the door open, triggering a little jingle from the bell hanging above his head. His neighbour appears in a flash, the book still in his hands. Once he spots Jaehyun, in all his disheveled teenage glory, he smirks knowingly. 

“It’s you,” is how he greets the boy. “I had a feeling we would meet again soon.”

Jaehyun swallows thickly. “Yeah,” his palms are sweating. “Me too.”

His neighbour grins again, walking up to him slowly but confidently. The boots he wears have thick heels, and they click against the wooden floor. “I’m Yuta, by the way,” he informs, extending a hand for Jaehyun to shake. He wears a lot of shiny jewelry, including the flashy rings that feel icy cold against Jaehyun’s skin. 

Jaehyun blushes slightly. Yuta is such a nice, perfect name for his neighbour. Simple, but not basic. Elegant, yet not pretentious. “Yuta,” Jaehyun repeats, checking to see if he was pronouncing it correctly. It’s not a name he’s ever heard before, but it rolls off his tongue so smoothly that it feels like he was born to say it. “I’m Jaehyun,” he replies, letting go of Yuta’s slim hand. 

“Nice to meet you, Jaehyun,” Yuta winks playfully. “Such a pretty name for such a pretty boy.”

Jaehyun blushes madly, letting out a nervous laugh. It’s not that he’s unaccustomed to these compliments—in fact, he’s more than used to them—, but the way Yuta uses them and the way the old ladies that gather at the town’s square do is completely different. 

“How do you like my humble business?” Yuta asks, holding his hands up and twirling. “I renovated it myself.”

Jaehyun opens his mouth to respond, but he doesn’t get the chance. “Jaehyun!” Doyoung kicks the door open, outraged. “What the hell are you doing?” 

“Well, hello,” Yuta greets him as well, not even the least bit fazed by Doyoung’s unceremonious entrance. “Welcome to—” 

“Oh, God!” Doyoung yells again, and Jaehyun has to hold back the urge to whack him. He can tolerate Doyoung’s obnoxiousness when in private, but he will not allow him to embarrass them in public. “What’s that smell?”

“Smell?” Jaehyun looks at his friend like he has grown a new head. “What are you talking about?”

Doyoung’s nose wrinkles in distaste. “It smells like—like putrefaction,” he finally says after a few seconds of thinking, and there’s something in his eyes. It looks like realization. 

“Maybe there’s a dead rat,” Jaehyun suggests, trying his best to not offend the store’s owner. He sneaks a glance at Yuta, and is surprised to find that he does not look taken aback or indignant. Instead, his almond-shaped eyes are fixed on Doyoung, staring at him as if trying to decipher some riddle written on Doyoung’s pale skin. 

“Maybe,” Yuta agrees, his voice thick and strained.

Doyoung wraps his hand around Jaehyun’s. His grip is hard enough to bruise, and it sends a chill down Jaehyun’s spine. “Wha—”

“We must go,” Doyoung says, looking at Jaehyun dead in the eye. His eyes are pleading, panicked. 

Jaehyun nods, gripping Doyoung’s hand tightly as well. “Sorry for the disturbance,” he apologizes to Yuta as Doyoung drags him away for the second time that afternoon. 

“Don’t be,” is the last thing he hears Yuta say. “Come again.”

⚕

“I smelled it,” is the first thing Doyoung says to Taeil once he gets home.

It doesn’t require an explanation. “I knew you would,” his uncle replies. There’s a mixture of worry and pride in his eyes. “Where?”

Doyoung sits down next to him on their old, battered couch before lying down, resting his head on Taeil’s lap. Immediately, his uncle starts carding his fingers through the younger’s hair, sensing his anxiety. 

“There’s a new bookstore downtown. It looks harmless but as soon as I walked in…” he starts playing with the hem of his shirt nervously. “God, I’d never smelled anything like that before. It was—it was suffocating. I felt like the odor would stick to me forever and crawl inside me through my pores.”

“It’s okay, Doie,” Taeil assures him, rubbing his cheek. “It’s just a smell.”

Doyoung pushes himself up to look at the older straight in the eyes. “But it’s not, is it?” He doesn’t really need to ask. They are bound, not only by blood but by magic. Hiding something from a member of your coven is almost impossible, as well as considered very insulting. Doyoung can feel Taeil’s tension within his own chest, and that means that he is not being completely honest. “Don’t lie to me,” his tone is harsh, but it is justified. He’s no longer a child, but an active member of their coven, and he deserves to be treated as such, no matter how much his uncle insists on treating him like a child. 

It takes a few seconds for Taeil to respond. “Doyoung,” he sighs, as if he is tired of dealing with a bratty teenager. “There are some things that you don’t need to know yet.”

Doyoung stands up abruptly, kicking the coffee table in a show of unintentional childishness. “Fuck,” he moans, rubbing his foot. “I’m sick of this,” he says through the lump in his throat. There are tears forming in the corners of his eyes, both from the pain and from the frustration. “All you ever do is order me around and treat me like your assistant. For fuck’s sake, you haven’t even taught me any new spells in months!” He snatches the bag he had been carrying earlier from where he left it on a loveseat. “I don’t want to be here,” he announces, throwing on his coat. “I’m going to Jaehyun’s.”

Taeil, who had remained silent during Doyoung’s ranting, finally speaks up. “Doyoung, please. It’s dark outside and the road is completely deserted—”

“And?” Doyoung interrupts him provokingly. “Apparently there’s no reason for me to worry, right? Other than the fact that the town smells like putrefaction for some reason that you refuse to share with me!” 

At this point, his screaming has caught the attention of Xiaojun, who walks down the old, creaky stairs with a frightened look on his face. “Is everything okay?” He asks with a tiny voice. 

Doyoung nods, heading towards the door. “Everything’s fine,” he kicks the door open. “I was just leaving.”

The walk from his house to Jaehyun’s is far from unfamiliar—in fact, Doyoung thinks that he could do it with his eyes closed—, so his steps are confident despite the late hour. As expected, the road is completely desolate, and the rhythmic tap of Doyoung’s sneakers against the pavement is the only sound that can be heard. 

It takes him only a couple of minutes to get to Jaehyun’s house, what with his fast and angry stomping. It looks just like it always does—pristine, elegant and, most of all, familiar. And then he sees it. 

Something, _someone_ standing between the bushes in front of the foyer. Doyoung can barely make out their shape in the moonlight, but he can almost say for certain that it is a man. An unknown man, hiding in the darkness, watching Jaehyun’s house. 

Panicked, Doyoung runs to the door, ringing the doorbell five times more than necessary. He looks around, alert and ready for any sort of danger. 

“Doyoung?” Jaehyun opens the door himself. He’s dressed in comfortable looking pyjamas and his hair is mussed, probably from playing with it. He looks so lovely, so innocent, that it terrifies Doyoung to his core. Jaehyun is a perfect target; it’s like he’s asking to be ruined. 

“Can I come in?” He says, not bothering to wait for the answer as he walks inside. 

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Jaehyun closes the door while he gives his friend a strange look. “What are you doing here this late?” He asks Doyoung while the other takes off his shoes and leaves them in their usual spot. 

“I had a fight with my uncle,” Doyoung explains. The homey atmosphere of Jaehyun’s house and his friend’s cozy energy have managed to somewhat calm him down, but he still feels on edge. It’s possible that he had just imagined the shadow, or even that it had been a ghost or a nonmaterial entity, unable to cause any harm, and yet Doyoung’s gut says otherwise. “Can I stay here tonight?” He looks at Jaehyun with pleading eyes, even though he knows there’s no need for it, usually. Today, however, had ended bitterly after their incident at the bookshop. They’d shared a not-so-friendly round of sharp insults and then had parted ways without even saying goodbye, but they were Doyoung and Jaehyun. It would take a lot more than a rude interruption for Jaehyun to shut Doyoung off.

“Of course,” Jaehyun says, expectedly. “I was just getting ready for bed.”

As they walk up the stairs to Jaehyun’s bedroom, Doyoung notices the silence. “Are your parents already asleep?” It’s unusual for Mr. and Mrs. Jung to sleep so early, both being night owls and workaholics, much like their son. 

“They had to go to the city,” Jaehyun replies. “Something about my grandma’s will? I don’t know.” He shrugs, unbothered, but his words send a chill down Doyoung’s spine. Before he’d arrived, Jaehyun had been all alone in this huge house, potentially being watched by a predator. 

In an outburst of worry, Doyoung reaches out and wraps both of his arms around Jaehyun’s waist, caging him and pressing his chest to the younger’s back. “What are you doing?” Jaehyun laughs. It’s so easy for him to forgive and forget, so much that it worries Doyoung. 

Not wanting his friend to panic, Doyoung comes up with an excuse for his sudden display of affection. “I’m sorry for what happened this afternoon. It was very rude of me.” His voice is muffled by Jaehyun’s shirt as he rests his face on a shoulder blade. His friend’s skin is warm and very much alive under Doyoung’s touch. 

“It was,” Jaehyun agrees, but he no longer sounds upset about it. “You’ll have to apologize for it.”

Doyoung lifts his head from Jaehyun’s shoulder. “But I already have.”

“Only to me,” the boy pulls away from his friend, turning around to give him a smart look. “But not to Yuta.”

Jaehyun walks into his room, closely followed by Doyoung. “ _Yuta_? You mean the shop’s owner?”

Jaehyun hums in response. He throws Doyoung his usual pair of pyjamas and starts preparing the bed as his friend changes. There’s no need for privacy between them, which is both a curse and a blessing for Doyoung. 

“You know him?” He inquires as he changes into the plaid bottoms. 

“Yup,” Jaehyun pops the ‘p’ with his plush lips. “We met yesterday.”

Doyoung has no memory of this. They’d spent the entire day together, as usual, and he had no recollection of meeting a handsome and peculiar bookshop owner. “When?” He walks towards the bed and lays himself on it next to Jaehyun, resting on his belly. 

“Late at night, when I was coming home. His car broke down on the road between our houses.”

Doyoung frowns. “What on earth was he doing there?”

Jaehyun smirks and scoots closer. “That’s the thing, he lives in the Myeong estate.”

Doyoung gasps. “What? No way! I thought the house was inhabitable.”

Jaehyun chuckles as he lies down completely. His eyes are already closed, his movements and speech turned lethargic. Doyoung finds it both fascinating and ridiculous that he can fall asleep in such a short amount of time. “So did I,” he sighs. 

“That’s so strange…” Doyoung thinks aloud, and he only gets a hum of acknowledgement in return. Jaehyun’s almost gone already. He looks downright angelic, his features so soft and delicate, framed by the moonlight. It’s always while Jaehyun sleeps—or pretends to do so— that things become strange between them. Perhaps it’s Doyoung’s own greed, finally being appeased by the power to watch Jaehyun with no consequences. Or perhaps it was Doyoung’s lust, which scared him much more. 

“Jaehyun,” he says his name softly and lovingly, as it was meant to be said. “Are you asleep?”

The boy barely nods. He’s close to Doyoung, their sides pressed together. 

“You’re unbelievable,” Doyoung breathes out. Jaehyun nods again, but this time he tilts his chin up, as if asking for something. 

It’s the moon, Doyoung thinks as he bends down, it makes people crazy.

Their lips meet lightly, softly. It’s barely what can be called a kiss, but it still makes Doyoung’s skin burn. Unsatisfied, he bends down again, this time pressing their mouths together more firmly, taking Jaehyun’s bottom lip in between his own. Jaehyun, although half-asleep, kisses back, craning his neck so he can get a better angle. This time, once they part, there’s a thin thread of saliva hanging onto their mouths, and Jaehyun’s lips are glossy with spit. It’s real, Doyoung then realizes, he kissed Jaehyun again, and this time it’s real. 

“Good night,” he whispers before turning around without another word. 

The next morning, neither mention it.

⚕

“I got word from the Conclave in Seoul,” Taeil’s voice comes from the living room. He’s using his serious tone, his Leader of a Coven voice, presumably to talk to Kun, who’s the only other adult witch in their town.

Doyoung takes off his coat and shoes as silently as possible as to not alert his uncle, although that’s a pretty impossible feat. Nothing happens in this house that goes unnoticed by Taeil. 

“And?” Kun asks.

“Nothing relevant,” Taeil scoffs. “About either of the cases.”

“Well,” the wood creaks as Kun stands up. “It’s not like the lack of information was unexpected. The Conclave has no claim over those bloodsuckers. They can do as they please and answer to no one.”

“That’s not true,” Taeil argues. “It’s true that the Conclave have no real control over them, but if they were to jeopardize the Conclave’s situation, they could be banished.”

“So you think that’s what happened here?” Kun moves to stand in front of Taeil, blocking Doyoung’s view. “Some reckless immortal pissed off the Conclave enough for them to be exiled.”

“Possibly,” Taeil ends the conversation there. “Doyoung,” he suddenly calls his nephew, and Kun turns to look at him too. “I wasn’t expecting you to be back so soon.”

Doyoung snorts sarcastically, walking out of his hiding place. “Please, we all know you cast a tracking spell over me years ago.”

Taeil shakes his head with a small smile on his face. “Did you and Jaehyun have a nice night, at least?”

“It was okay,” Doyoung simply answers, turning to walk up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Doyoung,” Taeil calls him again, and the boy sighs tiredly.

“What now?”

“If you see anything, anything at all, even in the slightest bit suspicious, I want you to tell me. Understood?”

Doyoung’s throat knots with the memory of the shadow standing in front of Jaehyun’s house last night. “Does this have to do with that “bloodsucker” you were talking about? What is it, like a chupacabra?”

Kun chuckles. “Just listen to your uncles, wise guy. All your questions will be answered, eventually.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung rolls his eyes. He has no energy for confrontation, so he settles for agreeing with his elders like he would with a toddler. “Whatever you say.”

⚕

Doyoung calls late in the afternoon. Jaehyun can almost feel his anxiety through the buzzing of his phone.

“Jaehyunnie,” he greets the younger with a nickname he only used after fights anymore. “Do you have plans tonight?”

Jaehyun scratches the back of his neck. “Actually, I do. My parents want us to go out and have a formal family dinner. They want to talk about my future, I’m sure.”

Doyoung hums on the other end of the line. “Well, that’s good. Your future is important.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun replies, followed by a long and awkward silence, uncharacteristic between them.

It was undeniable that something had changed. 

“Well, I’ll call you tomorrow, then.”

“Sure,” Jaehyun breathes out, relieved to finally end the painful conversation—or lack thereof. “Bye.”

After hanging up, Jaehyun throws himself on the bed, face up. He stares at the ceiling for what feels like hours, his mind blank. He counts the spots on the otherwise immaculate white paint, and watches the shadow cast by his lamp, trying to focus on anything other than whatever was going on in between him and his best friend of twelve years.

“Jaehyun!” His mother calls him from downstairs. “Start getting ready, we leave in an hour. Your father made a reservation, so this is nonnegotiable.”

“Okay!” He responds, pushing himself up. He’s in no mood to argue with his mother about something as inconsequential as taking a shower and dressing up. 

He undresses on the way to his en-suite bathroom, a privilege he enjoys that Doyoung likes to remind him of whenever he sleeps over while at the same time complaining about the one bathroom his entire family shares. 

Doyoung.

The name—as familiar as any name can be when you’ve been pronouncing it everyday for the majority of your life—stays in his mind as he steps inside the shower and lets the water fall on his head and shoulders until it eventually soaks his entire body. 

His relationship with Doyoung had never been a complicated one, surprisingly, considering just how difficult Doyoung himself was. From the moment they met, they’d clicked. Despite their differences—or perhaps thanks to them—, they understand each other perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle. Jaehyun knows when to agree and when to argue, and so does Doyoung. The instances in which their differences have led to serious conflict (because God knows that there is nothing Jaehyun loves more than bickering with his best friend and provoking him) are few and far in between, and Jaehyun can’t remember the last time they had fought. 

This time, however, it’s different. There is no fight, no argument. But there definitely is _tension_. 

Jaehyun doesn’t know how to deal with it. The last time it had happened, he’d simply pretended to be asleep and ignored the way his heart had contorted in his chest once Doyoung pulled away. He hadn’t had that much self-control last night. As soon as he’d felt Doyoung’s heart-shaped lips brush his own, he’d felt an inhuman need to kiss back. Perhaps the word he’s looking for is desire. He’d desired Doyoung, his lips on his, his body pressed close, like he’d never desired anything before, and it had terrified him. 

These feelings that are stirring awake inside him are surprising, yet not unfamiliar. Jaehyun guesses they were dormant, waiting for a trigger to set them off, like fireworks.

He steps out of the shower once he has enough of his own diverging thoughts, drying himself methodically, focusing on the mechanisms and the feel of the towel’s soft fabric against his skin.

Less than an hour later, Jaehyun finds himself sitting across from both of his parents in the only decent restaurant near their town. It almost feels like an interrogation, with how his father’s old, tired eyes drill into his head. 

“So,” he speaks up while they wait for their food, glass of water in hand. “What are we doing here?”

For anyone else, that might be a strange question to ask, but Jaehyun’s family hadn’t had dinner together in years. With his father’s job keeping him away from home most of the time, and his mother’s impending alcoholism, their so-called family rarely had time for these type of reunions anymore. 

“We would like to discuss your future, Jaehyun,” his father answers bluntly. He’s always been a man of few, dry words. 

Jaehyun looks at his mother, searching for a more informative explanation, but she remains silent in her seat. “I don’t understand,” Jaehyun sits straighter, his muscles starting to tense up. “What is there to discuss?”

Once again, it’s his father who speaks up. “You’ve finished high school without picking a career and I’ve respected that during the summer, but now that it’s coming to an end, I expect some changes to be made,” he looks at his son with serious, unrelenting eyes. “You’ll take this year as an opportunity to acquire some work experience, and once college applications are open, we’ll look for the one that fits you best,” he speaks matter-of-factly.

Jaehyun gapes at him, speechless. His mother doesn’t speak a word. 

“What are you talking about? You can’t just make these decisions for me—”

“Son,” his father cuts him off. “We know what’s best for you.”

Jaehyun snorts sarcastically. “So kind of you to speak in plural,” he spits, “as if Mom even had a word in this. I haven’t even seen you in months and now you come home and tell me how to live my life? Fuck off.”

“Jaehyun!” His mother finally speaks up. 

“I’m not leaving this town just because you want me to fulfill some frustrated dream of yours. This is my home, and I’m staying,” he says with finality. His voice has started to raise, and some other patrons are staring at them curiously. Gossip is always welcome in this stupid town, and getting dirt on the always perfect and proper Jungs must be very satisfactory. 

His father sighs tiredly like one would when arguing with a child. “Is this because of that boy of yours?” He asks, displease obvious on his face. “Just because he decided to throw his life away and stay in this dead town doesn’t mean you can’t strive for something better.”

Jaehyun’s blood boils. “I will not allow you to speak of Doyoung that way.” He’s furious, more than he has ever been before in his life. “Don’t speak of him as if you know him. You’ve never shown interest in him once in the last twelve years.”

His grip on the glass tightens. 

“Your father wants what’s best for you, sweetheart,” his mother speaks so softly, like she’s withering away.

“That scrawny boy has never been a good influence on you,” his father hisses. “Him and his family of nutcases are planting wrong ideas into your brain.”

The glass bursts. 

There’s a collective gasp that follows the sound of glass breaking, and everyone turns to stare at them. In just a few seconds, there are at least three waiters running around their table. One of them, a girl with kind eyes whose name tag says ‘Joohyun’, reaches out to take Jaehyun’s hand, where an angry red gash has appeared. 

“It’s fine,” he grunts, snatching his hand away. “I’ll take care of it.” He stands up while maintaining eye contact with his father, who looks about ready to burst as well. Jaehyun is certain that he could cause much more harm than the glass. “I’m leaving.”

Neither of his parents try to argue, too busy dealing with the situation. His mother has tears in her eyes. He walks away.

The nights are getting colder, Jaehyun realizes after a few minutes of angry walking, and it doesn’t help that his palm is throbbing in pain. He tries to stop the bleeding by pressing his jacket against the wound, which achieves nothing but ruining the jacket and leaving his arms bare to the breeze. Eventually, he gives up and throws the jacket on again, leaving his bleeding skin out in the open. 

He walks in silence until the stone buildings give way to the tall trees that frame the road to his house. It’s completely dark outside by now, and the only source of light in between him and his house comes from Doyoung’s. As he walks past it, he tries not to stare as he catches a glimpse of them—all of them, their small and bizarre family—all seated together at their limping dining table, eating in between laughs. He gulps, throat feeling tighter than before, and continues with his walk.

“Jaehyun,” a voice calls him out of his trance a few meters away from his house.

It’s Yuta. He’s standing in the middle of the road, much like Jaehyun, but it looks like he’s headed in the opposite direction. 

“Yuta,” Jaehyun greets him, voice hoarse. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” he says with a smirk. “What’s a teenager doing in the middle of a deserted road during a chilly summer night, when he could be out partying with his friends?”

“The same thing as you, I guess.”

Yuta chuckles. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re a little smartass?”

Jaehyun sighs. “Unsurprisingly, yes.”

Yuta flashes him a sharp smile. “In my opinion—” a light breeze ruffles Jaehyun’s hair and jacket, and Yuta stops his sentence abruptly. “Is that—? Are you… bleeding?” He asks, pointing at Jaehyun’s stained arm. 

Jaehyun follows Yuta's eyes. “Oh, yeah. I accidentally shattered a glass with my hand.”

Yuta’s gaze is locked on Jaehyun’s hand. “You should get it cleaned and patched,” he speaks, but it’s as if he isn’t there anymore. His eyes are glassy and unfocused, pupils dilated. “It could get infected.”

Jaehyun shrugs, but something about Yuta’s behaviour is unnerving enough to set him on edge. “We have a First Aid kit at home. I can take care of it.”

Yuta’s eyes suddenly find Jaehyun’s again. His movements have become glitchy and stiff. “I can help you with it. I’m sure I have something at home—”

Jaehyun feels a chill run down his spine. “No, it’s fine. Don’t worry about me, I’ve been through worse.”

“I insist—”

Jaehyun’s ring tone startles them both, making Yuta jump and step away from the younger boy. When he pulls it out of his back pocket, he sees that it’s Doyoung calling him, _again_. 

“I’m sorry, I have to take…” when he lifts his eyes from the phone, he finds that Yuta is no longer standing where he was. In fact, he’s nowhere to be seen. “...This.” He blinks twice, stunned, before he finally picks up the call. “How many times are you gonna call me today?” He means to sound playful, but his voice comes out with a sharp edge that makes Doyoung gulp.

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung sniffs. “I didn’t mean to bother you.”

“No it’s—” Jaehyun sighs before he starts walking towards his home again, his stomach still knotted from the strange encounter. “It’s fine, you’re not bothering me at all. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Is everything okay?” Doyoung has always been able to perceive Jaehyun’s distress with extraordinary ease. 

“I’d rather not talk about it right now,” he says as he fiddles with the keys, pulling them out of his pocket and unlocking the front door. “Why are you calling so late?” He asks as he kicks off his shoes. 

“I just… I overheard my uncle earlier,” Doyoung whispers, as if afraid of being caught.

“What did he say?” Jaehyun walks to the bathroom where the First Aid kit is stored. 

“Something strange,” Doyoung replies. 

“Well,” Jaehyun puts the phone on speaker as he starts to work on the mess that has become of his hand. “Taeil has always been a bit of a strange guy, Doyoung.”

His friend tsks, although he doesn’t sound offended. “It wasn’t his usual type of weird. What he said made me wonder—” he falls silent at the cry of pain that Jaehyun lets out after pouring disinfectant on the open wound. “Are you okay?!” He nearly screams, horrified. 

“Yes!” Jaehyun assures him. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. I stubbed my toe.”

“Jesus,” Doyoung breathes out in relief. “You scared the shit out of me.”

Jaehyun lets out a small laugh amongst the choked tears of pain at the familiarity of Doyoung’s colorful speech. 

“Be careful,” the older boy says after a comfortable silence. “Promise me.”

“Doyoung, I only stubbed my toe.”

“It’s not about that,” his voice has turned serious and thick. “Promise me you’ll stay safe. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Not without you, that’s for sure,” he tries to add some humor into their otherwise far too somber conversation. “Listen, it’s getting late.”

“Yeah,” Doyoung agrees. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course,” Jaehyun assures him. “Good night.”

That night, his mother visits him. 

“Jaehyunnie,” she hiccups. His back is facing the door, so he can’t see her face. He refuses to turn around, pretending to be asleep under his thick covers.

She sits on the empty side of his bed, and it doesn’t take long for Jaehyun to notice that she reeks of alcohol. _Not again._

“Jaehyunnie, I’m very sorry,” she cries again, petting his hair softly. “I hate him too. I hate what he’s doing to you.”

Jaehyun bites the insides of his mouth, repressing a sob. 

“I won’t let him, Jaehyunnie. I won’t let him rip you away from this town, from me, from your Doyoungie. I promise.”

With one last whimper, she lifts her hand from Jaehyun’s head and stands up, stumbling towards the door and closing it behind her. 

Jaehyun lets out a shuddering breath, his shoulders sag. 

His pillow is wet.

⚕

_Doyoung is lying on his belly, tongue peeking from his lips as he concentrates on his drawing. It’s their house, or at least the most realistic depiction a 6 year old can create. Taeil ruffles his hair and comments enthusiastically on the nonsensical colors Doyoung picked._

_In the background, Taeyong plays. He’s sitting on the piano’s stool, back perfectly straight. His overgrown black bangs have begun to cover his eyes, but he still plays expertly, his fingers dancing on the keys._

_“Did you like it, Doyoungie?” The 11 year old asks once he finishes the piece, flashing his younger brother the sweetest of smiles._

_Doyoung nods energetically. It doesn’t matter what or how well his brother plays—he is devoted to Taeyong, loves him immensely. The older boy could smash the keys with his fist and Doyoung would still consider it a masterpiece._

_“Come here,” Taeyong says, patting the empty space next to him on the stool. He speaks to Doyoung with the confidence that only an older brother possesses._

_Doyoung runs to his brother’s side, stretching his arms so Taeyong can pick him up and place him on the stool._

_“I’m going to teach you a new piece, okay?” Taeyong caresses the back of his baby brother’s head. He holds Doyoung’s tiny, chubby hands in his before setting them on top of the keys. “Follow my fingers,” he says before pressing a key._

_Doyoung knows what he has to do._

_He lifts one small finger, and presses the exact same key._

He startles awake. 

His room is almost entirely swallowed by darkness, except for the dim light that comes through the window. 

Doyoung’s entire body is tense, expectant. He can tell that he didn’t wake up naturally or by accident. Something woke him up.

The house is completely silent. The wood no longer creaks, the owls no longer hoot, the leaves no longer ruffle.

Slowly, almost cautiously, he pushes himself up. 

A pair of red orbs stare at him from the darkness of a corner. Doyoung’s words die in his throat as the creature steps out into the light.

“Doyoungie,” Taeyong speaks with a predatory grin on his face. “My baby brother. Oh, how I’ve missed you.”

Doyoung screams.


	2. Striped Carnation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Striped Carnation_ : refusal, sorry i can't be with you
> 
> (hello! i was editing this chapter and noticed there's a small mistake. it said "in jaehyun's almost 18 years of life" and i want to clarify that jaehyun is already 18 in this story. sorry for noticing so late!)

Doyoung’s tears fall into his tea.

“Baby,” Taeil rubs his back tenderly. “It was just a bad dream.”

The younger witch clutches his mug tighter, his gaze unfocused and lost. He had stopped sobbing an hour ago, but his body is still in the process of snapping out of the trance.

“Did you check the time at which I woke up?” Doyoung finally speaks for the first time since he awoke. His voice is raspy from the screaming and his throat begs for rest. 

Taeil shakes his head, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t, sorry. I was too busy trying to calm you down.” He rubs his own forehead, still looking a bit shaken. “I have never in my life heard you scream like that, Doyoung. What the hell happened?”

Doyoung shivers. “A nightmare.”

The head of the coven scoffs. “A nightmare doesn’t make you scream in absolute terror.”

“Uncle,” suddenly, Doyoung grabs the older’s hand so tightly that his nails dig into Taeil’s skin. His eyes are blown wide, shiny with tears. “Protect the house.”

Taeil nods. “Of course, Doyoung, of course.”

Doyoung starts crying again, burying his face in his hands. His entire body shakes with heart wrenching sobs, and Taeil struggles to pick him up and carry him to his room.

“There, there,” Taeil speaks words of comfort into his nephew’s ears as he tucks him into bed, lying next to him and wrapping himself around his trembling body.

Eventually, his mundane words turn into spells, and Doyoung falls asleep lulled by Taeil’s magic, almost as warm and familiar to him as the man himself.

On the nightstand, the clock no longer ticks. Broken, it shows an earlier hour. 

_3:33 am._

⚕

It’s past noon when Doyoung finally finds him.

“I knew you’d be here,” he says, dropping himself next to Jaehyun. The smell of lavender is almost drowsing, a bit too much for Doyoung’s extremely sensitive sense of smell, but his discomfort is meaningless if it means he gets to stare at Jaehyun’s pale figure framed by the lilac flowers. 

“You did?” Jaehyun speaks, but his eyes remain closed. He looks completely at peace, but Doyoung knows better. Jaehyun only hides in the lavender fields when he’s deeply stressed. “What, do you have a tracker on me or something?”

Doyoung snorts. Jaehyun’s ignorance is almost painful sometimes. “That’s the most ridiculous thought you’ve had in a while.” He turns to look at his best friend and finds him staring already. “I don’t need to track you, Jaehyunnie,” Doyoung’s eyes roam the younger’s face, taking their time to trace his plump lips. “I know you better than anyone.”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun agrees, a little out of breath. His eyes have been following Doyoung’s. “I guess you do.” He turns his face slowly, pretending to sleep again.

Doyoung can’t help but recall the last time they’d been in this position, two nights before. His heart hammers in his chest, screaming at him to seize the opportunity again, but his mind knows better. Now is not the time. 

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?” He turns his body, lying on his stomach so he can get a better look at Jaehyun.

Jaehyun shrugs. “Family stuff, the usual.”

Doyoung toys with a strand of grass. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

Jaehyun shifts uncomfortably and remains silent. It’s clear that he doesn’t want to discuss this particular topic right now, so Doyoung speaks no more. 

“And what happened to _you_?” The younger asks after a few minutes of silence. At the sight of Doyoung’s raised eyebrows, he clarifies, “you look so stiff. It’s like you’re expecting danger, guarding yourself.”

“I had a bad dream, that’s all,” is his reply. 

“Really?” Jaehyun gives him a pitiful look. “My dreams from last night were strange too. I dreamt about Taeyong.”

Doyoung rips the grass under his hand. “What?” 

“Yeah,” Jaehyun avoids Doyoung’s gaze, fully aware that he’s treading on thin ice. The topic of Taeyong is a delicate one for the older. “It was more like a memory, to be honest. Remember when we went to the lake, just the three of us, and Taeyong found that strange black rock?”

“Obsidian,” Doyoung remembers. “It was an obsidian rock.”

There’s something in the back of his mind, tugging at the strings of his memory, but Doyoung can’t pinpoint what it is. He feels like he was forgetting something important, something crucial. 

Had he dreamt about Taeyong too?

“Doyoung!” Jaehyun startles him out of his trance. “Where did you go?” He jokes, nudging his friend’s side with his knee.

Doyoung runs a hand through his hair, rolling onto his back again. “I don’t know,” he responds with a pout. “I can’t remember.”

His friend frowns. “That’s strange.”

Doyoung sighs and rolls on his back again. “I’ve seen stranger things,” he replies, and for some reason his mind is filled with images of dark red eyes.

⚕

“Jaehyunnie!” His mother greets him with a bright smile and tainted cheeks. Jaehyun tries to ignore the strong smell of red wine in favor of focusing on the way her eyes shine as she kisses her son’s cheeks. “Finally, you’re home!”

“Mom,” Jaehyun chuckles, removing his shoes and following her to the kitchen. “I was gone for a couple of hours at most.”

“Come here,” his mom ushers him. On the kitchen counter rests a huge basket full of bread, muffins and other baked goods. They look fresh, and as Jaehyun walks past the oven he feels the heat still radiating from it. “I need you to do me a favor.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “Mom, I can’t taste all of that for you.”

She giggles, shaking her head. “No, son. I want you to take these to our new neighbor. The one who moved into the Myeong estate.”

Jaehyun chokes on his own saliva. “You want me to what? Mom, I’m not thirteen years old.”

His mother ruffles his hair. “Oh, come on, Jaehyunnie. I heard he’s a young man, only a few years older than you. I bet he could use a friend in this lonely town.”

Jaehyun can’t help but agree. In this old, cruel town of theirs, a friend could be considered a treasure. Besides, there is no use in denying the fact that he wishes to see Yuta again, even if to do so he has to carry an embarrassingly big basket full of his mother’s baking.

“Fine,” he sighs, rolling his eyes in a failed attempt to mask his excitement at the thought of visiting his intriguing neighbor. 

His mom snorts, well aware of his true feelings. “Don’t have too much fun,” she warns.

Fifteen minutes later, Jaehyun finds himself in front of the imposing Myeong Manor, built centuries ago by the family that once owned their entire town and now could only claim the caskets in which they had been buried. 

In his 18 years of life, Jaehyun has never been inside the Manor, not even once. He’s heard stories, of course, as they all have, of reckless teenagers sneaking in and leaving scarred for life, but he suspects those have more fiction than truth in them. Still, as he stares at the invasive vines and shadowy windows, he can’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. 

As he walks up the mighty stone steps that lead to the towering wooden doors, he notices a bird perched on one of the two lion statues that frame the entrance. It’s a crow, an imposingly big one at that, and it watches silently as Jaehyun climbs the steps one by one. Its eyes follow Jaehyun’s movements with an almost human understanding in them, and he swallows an uncomfortable lump in his throat, stirring himself away from ridiculous thoughts of intelligent birds. 

He stands in front of the door for what feels like hours, preparing himself mentally for the inevitable interaction with Yuta. He really, really doesn’t want to embarrass himself in the presence of his charming and handsome neighbor, especially not while holding an already humiliating accessory in the form of his mother’s obnoxiously big basket. He doesn’t know if she made so much bread to prove a point, to show kindness or because she was too drunk to even know what the hell she was doing, but the fact that he’s always the one facing the consequences is starting to rub him the wrong way.

“So, are you going to knock or not?” A voice behind Jaehyun says, pulling him out of trance and making him yelp embarrassingly loud. “Relax!” Yuta laughs as he walks around him until they’re facing each other and he lays a comforting hand on top of Jaehyun’s shoulder. His hands are firm and strong—smaller than Jaehyun’s—but somehow still appear delicate and gentle. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologizes. “It’s just that I thought I had let you suffer for long enough.”

“Oh, God.” Jaehyun buries his burning face in his free hand, mortified. “For how long have you been standing behind me?”

Yuta pulls out a set of ancient keys and starts to unlock the door. “Not too long,” he says as he pushes the door open, ushering Jaehyun inside with him. “I went to run some errands and when I got back you were standing in front of the door. I thought it would be fun to watch you for a while and see what you would do but you just stood there completely immobile and lost in thought.”

The tips of Jaehyun’s ears are crimson. “I’m sorry if I made…” his words trail off as he takes in the inside of the Manor, so ridiculously grandiose that Jaehyun feels like he’s the size of a pea. “Woah,” is all he manages to say. 

“I know,” Yuta smiles proudly, lifting his chin to observe as well. “Most of the rooms are still in remodeling and there’s dust all over but the foyer and master bedroom are habitable.”

Jaehyun frowns. “What about the kitchen?”

Yuta gives him an unreadable look. “The kitchen?”

“Yes. You need a kitchen to eat, don’t you?” He gestures at the basket in his hands.

Yuta chuckles, but it comes out forced and awkward. “I prefer to eat outside. Feeding at home can get… messy. I don’t have the time to clean up after myself.”

Jaehyun frowns at the strange choice of words, but he remembers the state of his own kitchen once his mother had finished baking. “I guess that’s true.”

“Don’t worry,” Yuta winks at him. “The remodeling will be completed soon. You’ll be able to feed me whenever you want, then,” he licks his lips, eyes trailing Jaehyun’s body from head to toe. 

Jaehyun blushes again, gripping the basket tighter, which reminds him of why he even came to the Manor in the first place. “These are from my mom, by the way.” He hands the basket over to Yuta, who takes it with a questioning look on his face. “She wanted to welcome you into our neighborhood.”

“And she couldn’t do it herself?” Yuta asks, but there’s no malice in it, only teasing. 

“She was indisposed,” Jaehyun obviously lies.

Yuta doesn’t seem to notice his lie and if he does, he pretends not to. “That’s perfectly fine. No offense to your mother, but I’m guessing you’re a much tastier treat to the eyes than she is.”

Jaehyun chokes on his own saliva, feeling like his cheeks are about to be set on fire if Yuta continues to flirt so openly. “I guess I’ll be off now!” He says desperately, eager to run away from any possible further embarrassment. He’s in the middle of turning around when he feels Yuta’s strong hand wrap around his forearm.

“Wait,” Yuta’s grip on Jaehyun’s arm is a bit too tight, but he doesn’t complain. “The main chandelier will be finished next friday. Why don’t you drop by and tell me what you think about it?”

“A chandelier?” Jaehyun can’t begin to understand why Yuta would want his opinion on a chandelier.

“It’s an excuse, Jaehyun,” Yuta explains, shameless as ever. “I would like to see you next friday, would you please indulge me?”

Jaehyun finds himself between a rock and a hard place. “I-I, well… Okay,” he phrases it like a statement, but it comes out as more of a question. “Yeah, okay,” he says again, this time more sure of himself. “Why not?”

Yuta smiles at him, genuinely for once. “Great!” He sounds excited as he finally lets go of Jaehyun’s arm, releasing him both figuratively and literally. “I’ll see you then. You’re free now,” he teases again.

“I hope you enjoy those,” Jaehyun says politely as he opens the door, pointing at the basket. 

Yuta replies with only a cheeky smile, waving goodbye and closing the door after Jaehyun. 

As he walks home lost in thought again, Jaehyun notices that his forearm has started to throb in pain where Yuta had grabbed him. It’s not sharp, but it is intense and persistent, like a healing wound. 

He rolls up his sleeve to find a purple bruise in the shape of Yuta’s hand on his otherwise pearly white skin. 

A barely audible _oh_ is the only thing that falls from his lips.

⚕

It isn’t often that Doyoung likes to remember his brother. The wound in his heart, although old, still bleeds with every beat. It screams in pain, asking for relief, which Doyoung cannot give. He will never forget. The wound shall remain open for as long as he lives.

As he stares at the six year old poster with Taeyong’s face on it, his heart twists in pain. His brother’s features have started to fade, ink washed away by time and rain. _Missing_ , it says, and, in a way, it’s true. None of them know where Taeyong is, but they do know why he left. 

Doyoung had been thirteen at the time, barely a teenager.

The days leading up to Taeyong’s eighteenth birthday had been tense and dreadful. Even though Doyoung’s young mind couldn’t understand the specifics, it did comprehend the fact that his brother—and him, also, in the future—would have to undergo a transformation. The “Calling,” Taeil called it. 

_“You have nothing to fear,” Taeil assured Taeyong the night before his birthday. “We all know your heart belongs to the Light.”_

_Taeyong swallowed heavily and nodded in agreement, although the stern look on his face and tense jaw muscles said otherwise._

_That night, before bed, Taeil kissed both brothers good night, wishing Taeyong an early happy birthday before closing the door._

_Doyoung wrapped his growing limbs around his brother, resting his face on Taeyong’s chest. Although they were both too big to share a bed anymore, neither had even thought of suggesting otherwise._

_“Doyoung,” Taeyong spoke up just as the younger was falling asleep._

_“Hm?” He answered, barely awake, lulled to sleep by the rhythmic sound of Taeyong’s heartbeat._

_“I love you,” he said, voice breaking._

_Doyoung smiled, and fell asleep._

_When he woke up, his lungs wailed in agony._

_Above him, Taeyong’s eyes flashed red, watching morbidly as his brother’s life came to an end. His beautiful, unblemished hands—which Doyoung had loved so much—were tightly wrapped around the younger’s neck, slowly draining the life out of him._

_A strangled sound escaped Doyoung’s constricted throat, but the room was otherwise eerily quiet. As if time had come to a halt, horrified by the scene._

_“Tae. Yong,” he managed to say, barely conscious. There was no recognition in his brother’s eyes, only determination._

_A single tear rolled down the side of Doyoung’s face, staining the pillow._

_Suddenly, the room exploded._

_“NO!” Doyoung heard his uncle scream, a dash of light coming from his hands that sent Taeyong flying to the other side of the room. “Go!” He pointed his hands at the young witch threateningly. “Leave! And never come back! This house no longer welcomes you!”_

_Taeyong scrambled to his feet. He was still wearing his checkered pajamas, the ones that matched Doyoung’s. With one last look at his younger brother’s petrified body on the bed,  
Taeyong pushed the window open and leaped out of it, leaving his entire life behind._

_“Doyoung, baby,” Taeil soon came to Doyoung’s side, wrapping his arms around the growing boy. “I’m so sorry,” he cried into Doyoung’s hair, wetting it with hot, heartbroken tears. “I should have known, I’m so sorry.”_

_Doyoung remained absolutely silent. As he turned to look out the window his brother had just jumped out of, his blurry eyes fell on the clock that rested on his bedside table. Despite his haze, the numbers were clear to him._

_3:33 am._

“Penny for your thoughts?” Someone says beside him.

Doyoung turns to find the newcomer, Yuta, standing only a few feet away from him. He wonders why the man would even approach him when he realizes that he’d been standing in front of the bookstore the whole time. 

“Oh,” Doyoung rubs his neck, trying to alleviate the tension in his muscles. “Hello.”

Yuta gives him a clever smile before turning his head to look at whatever had caught Doyoung’s attention so intensely. “Missing person?” He says, reading the poster aloud. There’s another question hidden in the first one, although Doyoung doesn’t put it past him to blatantly ask. 

“Yes,” Doyoung simply answers, hoping Yuta will understand that he’s not too keen on sharing his thoughts. 

The other man nods, accepting Doyoung’s silent request to drop the subject. “Doyoung, right? Why don’t you come in?” He gestures towards his shop with a tilt of his head, an inviting smile on his face. “I made some tea.”

Doyoung wonders if there’s any reason for him not to accept. He still hasn’t deciphered his uncle’s words, but he understands that Yuta, for undisclosed reasons, represents some kind of threat for the entire town. Yet, somehow, he can’t help but feel a sort of gravitational pull towards him, as if there was a magnet inside Yuta that attracted Doyoung’s. It’s almost like a desire for the unknown, lust for danger. Testing his limits. 

“Sure,” Doyoung finally says after realizing that he had stayed silent for longer than socially acceptable. His cheeks turn a healthy pink color that makes Yuta chuckle and pat his shoulder. The older man is only slightly shorter than Doyoung, but his presence is much stronger. His angry red hair shines under the warm lights of his bookshop as he opens the door and walks inside, inviting Doyoung in and holding the door open for him. He holds his breath, walking in not-so-confidently.

Doyoung closes the door behind himself and follows Yuta silently as he places a beautiful porcelain teapot on the counter and pours two cups of what looks to be green tea. 

“It’s gorgeous,” Doyoung points out, tapping the pot carefully with a nail. 

Yuta grins proudly. “It’s a chinese relic,” he explains, like it makes complete sense for a young man from the city who works at a bookstore to own what must be a thousand dollar worth chinese relic. “An old friend gifted it to me.”

Doyoung hums, unsure of what to say. He drinks his tea silently, his eyes focused on the leaves at the bottom of his cup. He can feel Yuta watching him, as if waiting for some sort of reaction, and Doyoung wonders if his drink could somehow be spiked.

Doyoung is taking a short sip of his tea when he remembers Jaehyun’s angry request, made the night after they had visited the store for the first time. “I almost forgot,” he sighs, finally looking up to stare at Yuta’s dark eyes intently. “I wanted to apologize for my behavior the last time I was here. I was very inappropriate, and my comments were out of place,” he bows ever so slightly, always too proud. 

Yuta waves a hand in front of him. “Please, there’s no need. You were right, after all.”

Doyoung raises an eyebrow. “I was?”

Yuta nods. “I called pest control and they found an entire rat nest under my storage room. They took care of it, and now the smell is gone, so you’re welcome to come here for some tea or good books whenever you want.”

Doyoung’s eyes squint. Sometimes he wishes that his face wasn’t an open book, as Jaehyun always teases him. “Right,” he agrees. “It sounds inviting.”

Yuta holds his gaze with the same intensity. Suddenly the atmosphere has turned tense, not yet hostile, although Doyoung fears that it might if he stays for too long. “I sure hope it does. I have to make a living.” 

“Of course,” Doyoung nods as he places the tea on its plate. “I must go now. Thank you for the tea.”

Yuta doesn’t seem too offended by the sudden farewell, nor does he ask for an explanation. In fact, he looks relieved. “No need to thank me. Come again!” He gives Doyoung a practiced business smile, and his white teeth glint.

Doyoung bows again as he pushes the door open, finally stepping out of the bookstore. 

As soon as he’s outside, he takes a big gulp of fresh air, gagging slightly. 

Why did Yuta feel the need to lie about the odor? Did he think Doyoung was stupid? Or perhaps is he genuinely unaware of the putrid smell?

...Is Doyoung losing his mind?

“Shit,” Doyoung curses, walking away from the store and shaking his arms as if that would somehow get rid of the odor. 

He needs to figure out if he’s the only one who can still smell that terrible odor, but for some reason involving his uncle feels wrong. Perhaps he’s being childish, but this is a mystery Doyoung wants to solve on his own. As future head of a Coven, Doyoung must prove himself competent, even when it feels as if his uncle wants the opposite. Involving Taeil would mean handing over the responsibility to him, and while their current Head is undoubtedly more competent than his 20-year-old nephew, he also has more pressing matters to attend to, which Doyoung considers enough reason to hide this from him and investigate on his own. 

However, no matter how capable he considers himself to be, Doyoung still needs help. He might have unique and powerful abilities, but that doesn’t mean he can investigate an entire case on his own. 

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he grunts as he pulls out his phone from his back pocket and dials an all-too-familiar number from memory. His insides twist in nervousness while he waits, phone pressed to his ear. 

“Doyoung?” Johnny picks up after one too many rings. Doyoung can easily picture him staring at his phone with a dumb look on his face, considering whether to answer or not. He sounds genuinely stunned by Doyoung’s call. 

“Hello, Johnny,” Doyoung greets him, serene and polite (as if his heart isn’t hammering inside his chest).

“I don’t mean to insinuate that I’m not happy that you called but I can’t pretend that this isn’t shocking,” Johnny explains. He’s back to normal already, voice perfectly composed and words precise and smart. “It’s been a while.”

Doyoung sighs, rubbing his forehead nervously. “It has,” he agrees painfully. “Listen, I don’t want to sound rude but I didn’t call just to catch up.”

Johnny chuckles. It’s difficult to offend someone as confident and assertive as Johnny, especially if you take into account that he considers himself and his opinion above anyone else’s. “Of course you didn’t,” he says, and Doyoung chooses to ignore the implications of his words. “So, tell me. Why did you call?”

“There’s someone new in town,” Doyoung explains. “A man called Yuta, from the city. He moved into the Myeong Manor.”

“Seriously?” Johnny sounds intrigued. “I thought that house was falling apart.”

Doyoung hums. “It is, but apparently he’s renovating it. But that isn’t even the strangest thing about him. He also opened a bookstore downtown.”

“A bookstore,” Johnny repeats. “Okay? What does that have to do with me? Or did you call me just to gossip, Doie?” He teases, and the familiarity of it makes Doyoung nauseous. 

“No, asshole,” Doyoung spits, but there’s no venom in it. “I overheard my uncles talking about him the other day.”

“Another couple of gossipy hags,” Johnny teases again, although Doyoung has to agree this time. 

“Yeah, and the two most powerful witches in our area,” Doyoung argues, and Johnny hums in agreement. “Apparently Yuta represents some sort of threat, but they won’t tell me exactly what,” he cringes immediately after speaking, mortified at how childish and bratty he sounds. 

“Right,” Johnny replies. “And how do I fit into all this?”

“There’s this smell,” Doyoung begins to explain. “Whenever I’m around our new neighbor, this terrible odor hits me, but no one else except the other witches seem to smell it. It’s like a putrefying corpse.” He shivers at the memory of it. 

“Let me guess: you want me to check it out,” Johnny chuckles. 

“Well, objectively speaking you have the best sense of smell out of everyone I know.”

“So your _Jaehyunnie_ can’t help you with this one?”

Doyoung frowns. “Johnny…”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that,” he cuts Doyoung off quickly, voice tense. “I’ll do it. I’ll sniff around and see what I can find.”

“I— Johnny, thank you.” Doyoung doesn’t know what else to say.

“Don’t worry about it. We’ll figure out a way for you to repay me,” is the last thing Johnny says before hanging up. 

Doyoung feels like smashing his phone against a wall. 

“You’re home awfully early,” is the first thing Xiaojun says to him as Doyoung steps into their shared home. He’s sitting on their precarious sofá, smoking one of his black cigarettes that Kun hates. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Doyoung snorts as he takes off his shoes and walks over to the living room, dropping himself next to his cousin.

Xiaojun takes a drag before speaking. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe I find it strange that you’re here instead of following Jung Jaehyun around like a lovesick puppy, drool and all,” he jokes with stereotypical teenage sarcasm. 

Doyoung rolls his eyes, but he feels his insides twist in discomfort. Were his feelings really that obvious? “I have a life outside of my friendship with Jaehyun,” he replied, although not very convincingly. 

His cousin snorted, but made no witty comment. Instead, he took a long drag of his cigarette before saying, “my birthday is coming up.”

Doyoung’s heart shrinks. So they’re going _there_ tonight. “Yes,” he manages to say through the lump in his throat. “I know.”

“Kun hasn’t mentioned it once,” Xiaojun laughs, but there’s no humor in it. “You think he’s forgotten?”

Doyoung frowned. “Highly doubt it. Quite the opposite, actually.”

Xiaojun hummed in agreement as he finished his cigarette and threw the end into the ashtray. “He’s always been a chronic worrier, although I can’t say I blame him. The energy in this house is obscure to say the least.” He takes a deep breath, exhausted, and rubs his face before speaking again. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.”

Doyoung scratches his cousin’s nape in comfort. “It’s okay. We all say tactless things when we’re stressed. Well, I’m always tactless, to be honest.” Xiaojun lifts his head and gives him a sad smile, filled with worries that a seventeen year old shouldn’t have. “Listen, why don’t we do something together? The whole coven, I mean. We could even visit the city, if you want.” He doesn’t say the words, but they both hear them as clearly as if he had shouted them. 

_One last time._

The possibility is all too real for either of them to acknowledge it yet.

Xiaojun nods, glassy eyes looking up at Doyoung with both hope and despair. “Sure, sounds good.”

“Let’s go before the summer ends, okay?” Doyoung says. _Before your Calling_ is what he means and Xiaojun is anything but oblivious, so he nods in understanding one last time and excuses himself to get ready for bed, leaving Doyoung alone with his thoughts in a living room full of memories to ponder on.

⚕

Friday comes quicker than Jaehyun would like, and with it so do the butterflies in his stomach. He feels ridiculous—after all, he’s only known Yuta for a week or so, and being invited to his house to witness its renovation meant next to nothing, especially considering the fact that they were neighbors.

And yet, thinking about Yuta’s flirty smile and bright red hair, Jaehyun can’t help the pink blush that appears on his face.

“Jaehyun,” he gets a call from Doyoung early in the morning. “What are we doing today?”

The boy chuckles. “Well, I don’t know about you but _I_ have been invited to the most luxurious manor in town.”

He hears Doyoung’s breath hitch from the other end of the line. “I’m sorry, what?” He sounds somewhere between incredulous and dismayed. “You were invited to the Myeong Manor?”

Jaehyun hums in confirmation. “Yuta asked if I wanted to see the main chandelier once its renovation was finished and I agreed.”

There’s a few painfully long seconds of silence before Doyoung speaks with finality. “Yuta is an adult, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun frowns, taken aback by the comment. “Well, so am I.”

“He’s at least four years older than—”

“What are you trying to say, Doyoung?” Jaehyun cuts him off abruptly, irritated by his best friend’s smart mouth and tendency to give his mostly unwelcomed opinion at any given moment. “Because I don’t think you’re actually saying it.”

Doyoung lets out an angry huff. “I’m taking care of your reckless ass, so watch your tone.” 

Jaehyun hangs up.

It’s not that he doesn’t appreciate Doyoung’s concern. In fact, he loves when his best friend frets over him and pampers him, but he draws the line at being patronized. He was a legal adult and he could take care of himself and, hell, if he wanted to fool around with his provocative neighbor he was in his right to do so.

“Mom!” He yells as he struggles to put on his fancy boots. The air around him is thick and heavy from the approximately two litres of perfume that he’s sprayed on himself, causing him to cough and gag a couple of times. 

His mother’s head pops out from the living room’s threshold. “Yes, honey?” Her voice sounds steady and firm, an indication that she hasn’t been drinking as much today.

“I’m going out,” he informs her as he checks his appearance in the entrance’s mirror. “Don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Okay!” She chirps. “Say hello to Doyoung for me!”

It’s only after Jaehyun closes the main door and stands outside that he realizes what his mother had said. 

For everyone, Jaehyun and Doyoung were a package deal, to the point where one couldn’t exist without the other. If Jaehyun was going out, it inherently meant that he was going out _to see Doyoung_. There was no other possibility. 

As he walked toward the immense Manor standing in between his and his best friend’s house—ironically—, Jaehyun shivered. It’s not that the thought of being instantly associated with Doyoung made him uncomfortable, but he worried about what his new neighbor could assume about their relationship.

...Although, if he was being honest, Jaehyun didn’t know what to think of his relationship with Doyoung either.

The metal gate that guarded Yuta’s estate screeches when Jaehyun pushes it open, letting himself in. It’s not the first time he’s done so—like any other teenager in their town, he had sneaked in a couple of times for the thrill of it—, but it _is_ the first time he’s ever felt this agitated.

As he walks on the stone path that leads to the main entrance, his heeled boots click loudly against the rocks. 

Before he can even start climbing the stone steps, the large, heavy wooden door opens with a creak, and Yuta appears in front of him. His red hair shines under a single ray of sunlight, and his pearly skin glistens, healthy and young. There’s something timeless about him, some indescribable element that makes Yuta undeniably and eternally beautiful. His beauty fits no fashion or standard, and yet at the same time he answers to them all.

“I-I didn’t even have the chance to knock,” is the only coherent thought Jaehyun has.

Yuta smiles brightly, watching Jaehyun with fond eyes as the younger boy climbs the steps until they stand in front of each other. Jaehyun is only slightly taller, but the difference is enough to be instantly noticeable and, for some reason, having Yuta look up at him with his deep almond eyes makes Jaehyun’s stomach knot.

“I heard you outside, so I thought it would be nice to greet you with a moderately grand gesture. Although I admit that opening a door isn’t too fancy.” Yuta chuckles, slightly embarrassed, but still much more composed and confident than Jaehyun will ever be. “I’m sorry, I have yet to learn the customs here.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen, and he shakes his head with a frown on his face. “Oh, no, please don’t worry about that! You did great, it was a really nice greeting.” _Breathtaking_ , he wants to say, but he’s already humiliated himself enough times in front of his beautiful neighbor. 

Yuta laughs again, but this time his eyes shine with a feeling that Jaehyun doesn’t recognize quite well, although it’s not unfamiliar. In a way… it almost reminds him of how Doyoung looks at him.

“So!” Yuta claps his hands in excitement, startling Jaehyun out of his wandering thoughts. “You need to see this.”

Without thinking twice, Yuta grabs Jaehyun’s hand before closing the main door. The immense foyer goes completely dark then, the tall glass windows still covered by heavy curtains. 

“Come here,” Yuta speaks as he pulls Jaehyun towards what the younger assumes is the center of the room. He can’t help but remember the last time Yuta had touched him like this, and the deep purple markings that still tainted his pale skin. This time, Yuta’s grip is much lighter, almost delicate, as if he was aware of the pain he had caused Jaehyun last time. 

“How can you even see anything right now?” Jaehyun wonders aloud, eyes struggling to take in anything other than plain darkness.

Yuta lets go of his wrist and walks away. “I have my ways,” is his explanation. “Now stay silent and watch this.”

Jaehyun hears a loud click in the distance and then… the room lights up.

“Oh my God,” Jaehyun breathes out, craning his neck to stare up at the massive chandelier hanging above him. It’s almost obnoxious in its size, but so fascinating that it more than makes up for it. 

The entire room is covered in sparks of light, a heart-stopping visual effect that leaves Jaehyun’s mouth hanging open. He wonders what it must be to live in a house like this, surrounded by painfully beautiful art, but with no one to share it with. While watching the glasses flicker, Jaehyun wonders if Yuta has already experienced the bone-deep loneliness that comes from living in their town, and if his company helps—even in the least bit—battle it. 

“Do you—” Jaehyun starts, but he doesn’t get the chance to finish. 

“Jaehyun,” Yuta speaks, and the proximity of his voice makes Jaehyun lower his head to confirm that his neighbor has once again moved close to him. Yuta stands only mere inches away from Jaehyun, dark eyes staring deep into his. 

Jaehyun swallows around the heavy lump in his throat. “Yes?”

“Do you like it?” Yuta asks with genuine wonder in his face.

“Well, of course I do, it’s amazing. Thank you for sharing it with me.” He fails to stop the soft pink blush that immediately taints his cheeks. 

“It was my pleasure. There’s no one else in this town I’d share it with,” Yuta confesses, reaching out to hold Jaehyun’s hand in his again. His angular, handsome face is framed by the twinkling reflections of the light on the glass, and in that moment he looks immortally beautiful.

And then, he starts to lean in.

It takes Jaehyun’s brain a few seconds to process the situation, but once it does it starts to break down in panic. 

“Yuta!” He yelps, jumping a step away almost without thinking.

His neighbor flinches, eyes wide open like a deer caught in headlights. “Wh-what’s wrong?!”

“I forgot!” Jaehyun spurts, trying to find himself a way out of this mortifying scene. 

“What?” Yuta looks somewhere between frustrated and ashamed. 

“Doyoung!” His best friend’s name is the first that comes to mind. “He needs my help with something! I’m sorry, but I have to go!” 

“But Jaehyun—” Yuta’s hand wraps around Jaehyun’s biceps, fingers digging in with enough force to make him cry out, and Yuta withdraws his hand almost instantly. His face is covered in shock, like he can’t believe that he caused Jaehyun harm again.

Before the situation can escalate any further, Jaehyun gives Yuta a panicked smile before turning on his heel and running out the door, refusing to look back.

⚕

The moment Doyoung realizes Jaehyun had abruptly ended their call, he feels a burst of immeasurable rage inside him. Before he can even think of preventing it, his rage turns into magic, and it doesn’t take long before the curtains catch on fire.

“Fuck!” He screams in frustration, both from his best friend’s rudeness and from his inability to control his own powers. “Not again.”

He throws a glass full of water that was sitting on his nightstand at the small fire, effectively putting it out. A dark patch has appeared on the wall—next to the other five or six that he had been collecting over years of hormonal rage fits—, but he decides to ignore it. As long as Taeil doesn’t find out, his integrity will remain intact. 

Doyoung considers calling Jaehyun again, if only to scream his ear off, but he doesn’t even get the chance. As he begins to unlock his phone, it suddenly starts vibrating in his hand before the screen changes and the caller ID appears. 

It’s Johnny. 

Doyoung knows, he _knows_ , that this is strictly a business call. He had been expecting it; after all he was the one who had contacted Johnny in the first place, asking him to do Doyoung’s dirty work. And Johnny had obliged, as he always did when it came to Doyoung. 

“Johnny,” he greets the slightly older man with fake casualness, attempting to conceal the strain in his voice. “What is it?”

“Doyoung,” Johnny greets him back. He sounds uneasy, somewhere between excited and terrified. “You’re not going to believe this.”

The statement makes Doyoung tense up, his muscles seizing. He stands up from his bed to look out his window, already restless.

“What is it? Tell me,” he orders, ever so hopelessly impatient. “Is he dangerous?” 

Doyoung’s fingers wrap around his wounded curtain, and he pushes it away. From his house, the front of the Myeong Manor is visible, although slightly concealed by the tall trees and weeds that had grown throughout years and years of abandonment. He can see that there’s light inside, and in that moment he knows. He knows that Jaehyun is _in the house._

“Doyoung,” Johnny’s deep voice seems like a distant memory as Doyoung’s entire attention focuses on the lights flickering inside the old mansion. “You’re not going to believe this but—”

“Say it already.”

“I think your neighbor is a vampire.”

His phone slips from his hand, falling to the floor with a loud thud.


	3. Yellow Hyacinth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Yellow Hyacinth_ : jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains non-explicit sexual content, so be warned!!

The moment Yuta steps into his foyer, he knows.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon.”

The unmistakable condensed smell of blood magic pours from above him, and he looks up to find his favorite dark witch standing expectantly at the top of his stairs. 

Taeyong’s ruby eyes shine with mischief as he slowly makes his descent. He’s still indescribably beautiful, in a dangerous way Yuta knows all too well. 

“I couldn’t wait any longer,” he pouts with fake disappointment. “You can imagine how upset I was when I arrived and found that you weren’t home. Although I see now that it was out of necessity,” he grins seductively as he wipes a remaining drop of blood on the corner of Yuta’s lips.

Yuta wraps his hand around Taeyong’s wrist in a strong and inhumanly fast grip. The witch gasps in surprise, but he doesn’t show any discomfort when the vampire lowers his head to lick the blood off of his finger, releasing it with a pop. 

“I know better than to give you even the slightest bit of blood for free,” Yuta snorts as he drops Taeyong’s arm, walking past him and into the living room. 

The moonlight peers through the tightly drawn curtains as Yuta drops himself on one of the velvet armchairs, exhausted after the adrenaline rush that came from feeding.

“Speaking of,” Taeyong picks up the conversation again, pushing Yuta’s arm off so he could sit on the armrest. “I hope you haven’t snacked on our pretty boy yet.”

“I can control myself,” Yuta scoffs, brushing his red hair off of his face. “No matter how hard it may prove to be.”

Taeyong smiles triumphantly. “He’s delicious, isn’t he? I knew you would like him.” He leans in to whisper in Yuta’s ear, “I picked him especially for you.” 

Yuta shakes his head. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you having a personal vendetta against a certain young witch.”

Taeyong’s face hardens, and he leans away from Yuta. “Don’t bite the hand that feeds. I brought you the perfect target, and at the same time tied up a couple of loose ends. This way we both win.”

“Of course,” Yuta chuckles. “I have to admit, I wasn't expecting him to be so…”

“Innocent?” Taeyong suggests.

“Hard to resist,” Yuta chooses.

The witch gives him a stern look. “Don’t kill him before the ritual.” He points a threatening finger at Yuta’s chest. “Play as much as you want with him, I don’t care. But keep him alive until the Blood Moon.”

Yuta’s eyes follow the trace of the moonlight, eventually finding its source. Tonight there is a first-quarter moon, proudly announcing the coming of a full one in less than a week. 

“We have time,” Yuta sighs, remembering the six months they had until the lunar eclipse. 

“Too much of it, I’m afraid,” Taeyong groans. “I might get bored and start killing people.”

Yuta wraps his strong fingers around the other’s thigh, dragging him down until he is sitting on his lap. “I wouldn’t advise you to do that,” he murmurs as he noses at Taeyong’s neck while at the same time applies more pressure on his upper thigh. The witch lets out a soft whimper, and his heart rate speeds up. His blood has a particular truffle smell, as all witches do, and Yuta can’t wait to taste it again, especially after the numerous effects Taeyong’s magical blood had had on him the last time.

“Hmm,” Taeyong moans slightly at the first touch of Yuta’s lips on his neck, but he pulls away almost immediately. “Let’s not make a mess on the beautiful furniture.” He stands up, offering Yuta a hand, which he takes (even though they both know he doesn’t need it). 

Taeyong leads Yuta up the stairs, immediately turning around as he reaches the last step to wrap his arms around the vampire’s neck and press their bodies impossibly together.

“By the way,” the witch says in between kisses, out of breath. “I’m not the only one who wanted to come visit.” He sighs in pleasure before continuing. “You better watch out.”

Yuta’s mind can only focus on the mortal warmth of Taeyong’s body. “What?” He asks, confused.

Taeyong grins, and he wraps his hand around Yuta. “Nothing,” he answers, glossy lips brushing against Yuta’s as he speaks. “Bite me.”

Yuta does.

⚕

Jaehyun wakes to the sound of his doorbell ringing. He barely registers his mom, who had been cooking breakfast if the delicious smell that invaded the entire house meant anything, running in her slippers to answer the door.

“Doyoungie!” He hears her say immediately after opening the door. “What a nice surprise! Come in, darling!”

Jaehyun groans, burying his face in the fluffy pillows.

“Jaehyunnie!” His mom calls him from downstairs. “Your Doyoung is here! Come down!”

God, sometimes he wishes he could dissolve into nothingness at free will.

He lets out another self-pitying whine before pushing himself up and out of bed, rubbing his face and brushing his hair with his long fingers as he slips his bare feet into his slippers. 

Jaehyun shuffles to the kitchen slowly, dreading the inevitable interaction with Doyoung. He can hear him chatting confidently with his mother, as he had many times before. The familiarity of it makes Jaehyun’s stomach twist—he loves it and, at the same time, he’s getting sick of it. He craves the thrill that comes with discovering new things, instead of repeating the same patterns over and over again. 

“Good morning, honey,” his mom greets him happily the moment she spots him under the doorframe. She’s pouring orange juice into what Jaehyun assumes is Doyoung’s glass. His best friend is sitting on a stool, his back to Jaehyun, and he makes no move to acknowledge the younger’s presence. 

“Good morning, mom.” Jaehyun smiles sleepily at her as he sits on the stool directly next to Doyoung’s, knowing full well it would make his friend uncomfortable. “You seem happy.”

“I am!” She sings as she hands Jaehyun another glass of juice. “Doyoungie’s visits always lift my mood. I wasn’t expecting him today.”

“Yeah.” Jaehyun’s eyes stay fixated on the bottom of his glass. “Me neither.” 

His mother seems to notice the dryness in Jaehyun’s tone, and her brows rise as her eyes jump from one boy to another. “Oh,” she says in realization. “Well, I need to freshen up so serve yourselves breakfast, okay?” 

“Okay.” Jaehyun watches her go instead of looking at Doyoung.

“Thank you, Mrs. Jung.” Doyoung doesn’t even lift his head.

They eat in silence for a while, the sound of the bathroom faucet in the background. Doyoung eats his food shamelessly, as he would in his own house. Jaehyun’s blood boils, but at the same time, he can’t help but feel at ease knowing that his best friend is _this_ comfortable in his house.

“Why are you here?” He finally snaps once Doyoung picks up his third cookie. 

Doyoung scoffs. “First of all, don’t talk to me like that. Second of all, I’m here to apologize to you, brat.”

Jaehyun’s eyebrows almost reach his forehead. “It sure is taking you some time to do so, then.” 

Doyoung still won’t look at him. “You know it’s hard for me, okay?”

Jaehyun snorts, incredulous. “It shouldn’t be that hard to apologize to the people you love.” 

“Don’t say the _L word_ ,” Doyoung blushes brightly and shoves the entire cookie in his mouth. In that moment, they both know that the argument is over. 

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun turns his body in the stool with a smirk on his face, and his knees brush the side of Doyoung’s thigh. “Look at me, dumbass.”

Doyoung obliges, tangling his legs with Jaehyun’s so they can be face to face. He finally looks at Jaehyun, eyes glassy with worry and regret. 

“I forgive you, so stop looking at me like a sick puppy,” Jaehyun pinches his friend’s knee. “But I need you to stop meddling and let me handle things on my own.”

“Jaehyun—”

“Doyoung,” he’s usually never this headstrong, especially when it comes to disagreements with Doyoung, but this is something he can’t allow. His best friend can’t make his choices for him. “You heard me.”

Doyoung bites his bottom lip. He doesn’t look very convinced, but at least it seems like he will drop the subject for the time being. 

Unexpectedly, their reconciliation is interrupted by the loud noise of the doorbell. It startles Jaehyun enough to make him jump in his seat, his knees knocking against Doyoung’s. He recovers quickly enough, though, slipping down from his stool and walking out of the kitchen and into their foyer. 

“Coming!” He says, informing both their visitor and his mother, who was still in the bathroom upstairs. 

The door knob is unnaturally cold against the skin on his palm as he wraps his hand around it and opens the door. 

He feels his heart implode in his chest as he stares dumbfounded at his handsome neighbour, who stands at his door with an awkward smile on his face.

“ _Yuta_ ,” Jaehyun breathes out. “What are you doing here?”

Yuta lets out a loud laugh at the awkward abruptness of the question, making Jaehyun blush madly in embarrassment. “Is it a crime to want to visit your lovely neighbour?”

Jaehyun feels his ears light up as well, and he brushes his neck in a failed attempt to calm his nerves. Yuta’s eyes follow the movement of his arm, but they land on his clavicles, exposed due to the stretched collar of his shirt after many years of use. A strange emotion flashes in Yuta’s eyes for a split second, but it’s too distinct for Jaehyun not to catch it. It immediately reminds him of the one Yuta wore the last time they saw each other, right before his neighbour had leaned in with intentions that Jaehyun hadn’t been willing to face at the time. 

He’s brought back to reality by a loud cough from Yuta, whose eyes had left Jaehyun’s body and were now staring at his eyes expectantly. He’s still on the porch, his boot mere inches away from the doorframe.

“Oh!” He realizes then just how rude he’d been, and wonders if the possibility of his cheeks turning any redder exists. “Come in!” He says to his neighbour as he opens the door wildly, moving aside to welcome Yuta into his home.

Yuta gifts him with a sharp, shamelessly flirty grin. He steps inside confidently, and the heel of his boot makes a loud clicking noise when it comes into contact with the fancy wooden floor of the threshold. 

Yuta takes off his shoes immediately and with no protest, and Jaehyun can’t help but crack a smile at the sight of the fancy boots next to Doyoung’s worn out sneakers and his own running shoes. A much treasured spark of novelty within the sea of familiarity in Jaehyun’s life.

“We were just having breakfast,” he explains as he leads Yuta into the kitchen. 

“ _We_?” Yuta asks, but his question is answered the moment they walk into the room.

“Jaehyun, where did your mom put the orange ju—?” Doyoung’s words come to an abrupt halt as soon as he catches sight of Yuta, and his eyes widen with panic before recovering quickly. For a person as passionate and emotional as Doyoung, it’s truly admirable how much control over himself he can have at times, and this is one of them. “Yuta,” he speaks calmly, setting his empty glass on the isle. 

Yuta’s expression is puzzled, but Jaehyun can tell that he is troubled by Doyoung’s reaction. “Doyoung. I wasn’t expecting you to be here, but I can’t say it surprises me. From what I’ve heard, it seems you and Jaehyun are as thick as thieves.”

Doyoung’s jaw clenches. “That is correct.” It’s a completely harmless statement, but the words are coated with something else entirely. It almost sounds like a threat.

Jaehyun has no idea what’s happening. 

“So, Yuta,” he speaks up before the situation can escalate. “Why did you decide to visit?”

His neighbour spares Doyoung a furtive glance, and his scowl turns into a knowing smirk. “I wanted to apologize,” he says, looking directly at Jaehyun.

From the corner of his eye, Jaehyun can see his best friend frown, but he remains silent. “Apologize? For what?”

Yuta shakes his head in shame. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable the other day. I was way out of line.” He gives the younger an honest look of regret. Then, he adds, “I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.”

“What?!” Doyoung finally bursts. 

Jaehyun’s heart pounds in his chest. He has absolutely no idea how to handle this situation, and with Doyoung’s shouting and Yuta’s hostile smile, he feels completely overwhelmed.

“I—I—” he tries to speak, but no words come out. “Yuta—”

“Oh, hello!” His mother suddenly walks in, completely unaware of what had been taking place before she walked in, and Jaehyun has never loved her more than he does in that moment. She walks up to Yuta and extends a hand politely. “I don’t believe we’ve met before. I’m Jung Yoonah, Jaehyun’s mother.”

Yuta gives her a charming smile as he shakes her hand just as politely. In the background, Doyoung is completely silent, but Jaehyun can almost hear his loud, raging thoughts.

“Nice to meet you, Mrs. Jung,” Yuta greets Jaehyun’s mother. “I’m Nakamoto Yuta, the new neighbour.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widen in realization. “It’s you! You’re even more handsome than what I had heard,” she says shamelessly, making Jaehyun whine in embarrassment. 

“I see gossip in this town travels just as fast as I had been warned,” he laughs, looking at Jaehyun with fond eyes. 

Jaehyun’s mother gives both of them a questioning look, but if she’s made any assumptions, she chooses not to voice them. Instead, she asks, “what brings you here, dear?”

Yuta shakes his hand dismissively. “I needed to have a word with your son, but I feel like now is not the right time.”

“Yuta—” Jaehyun gives him a regretful look, but Yuta squeezes his hand in reassurance. 

“It’s okay, I can come back another time,” he speaks as he starts to walk towards the door, both Jaehyun and his mother trailing behind him to see him off. 

“Of course, dear, you’re always welcome here!” She holds the door open as Yuta slips into his boots. “Come back soon!” 

Yuta walks down the stairs of the porch before turning around to wink at Jaehyun. 

“I will.”

It takes mere seconds after Yuta leaves for Doyoung to stride over to where Jaehyun and his mother still stand in the foyer. 

“Where are you going?” Jaehyun gives him a weird look as he shoves his feet angrily into his shoes. “We were having breakfast.”

“Somewhere,” Doyoung responds vaguely, too irritated to delve deeper.

Sensing another argument, Jaehyun’s mother excuses herself politely, hiding in her bathroom again. 

“Is it because of what Yuta said?” Jaehyun gives him an offended look. “Doyo—”

“I don’t fucking care!” Doyoung snaps, making Jaehyun jump in surprise. “I don’t fucking care what you did. I don’t care if he kissed you, or touched you. Just,” he starts to deflate, anger and jealousy turning into worry. “Just don’t do it again. Stay away from him.”

Jaehyun’s eyes are unreadable as he processes Doyoung’s words, but it doesn’t take him too long to react. 

“Leave,” he says, so calmly that it terrifies Doyoung. “Get out.”

“Jaehyun…”

“Leave. I don’t want to talk to you,” he insists. He’s starting to lose his composure, his eyes watering and bottom lip trembling. Doyoung’s heart breaks at the sight, fully aware that he had hurt his best friend again.

“I’m sorry,” Doyoung apologizes for the second time that day, his eyes trained on the floor. “I’m just looking after you.” 

“Okay,” is the last thing Jaehyun says to him before closing the door on his face.

⚕

Doyoung has never been particularly fond of bars, but there’s something about The Claw that makes him feel at home—and it absolutely has nothing to do with the owner.

“Doyoung!” Jisung, The Claw’s youngest bartender, greets him happily. It looks like he’s finally growing out of his teenage shyness, and Doyoung regrets having left him behind when he and Johnny had broken things off. “Long time no see.”

“Jisungie,” Doyoung ruffles his hair as he takes a seat on a suspiciously sticky barstool. “If you get any taller we’ll have to carve a hole in the roof.”

“That would be hilarious,” a deeper, dreadfully familiar voice joins in. 

Johnny doesn’t hesitate as he takes a seat on the stool next to Doyoung’s. He’s wearing tight jeans and his trademark leather jacket with a simple white shirt underneath, all put together with an aura of cockiness that still makes Doyoung’s blood boil in all the right places.

“Your hair’s gotten longer,” is the only coherent thought Doyoung can voice.

“Yeah, well,” Johnny’s runs a masculine hand through his honey colored locks. “Hair tends to do that.”

Doyoung swallows the knot in his throat, trying to keep himself together. It’s been a few months since he last saw Johnny, and while he still stands by the decision he made when he broke their _arrangement_ off, it doesn’t mean the sight of his ridiculously attractive ex-something isn’t making him sweat. 

“So,” Doyoung clears his throat, trying to regain control of himself. “What do you know?”

Johnny snorts. “Straight to the point as always. You need to relax.”

Johnny’s ever-present condescending nature makes Doyoung remember why he left, and suddenly the older doesn’t seem as charming anymore. “I didn’t come here for a psychological evaluation, _Youngho_.” He uses Johnny’s real name, fully aware of how much it irks him. “I came because you dropped a bomb on me over the phone and I need you to elaborate.”

Johnny rolls his eyes, but it seems like he understands Doyoung’s point of view, because he dismisses Jisung with a quick wave of his hand, leaving them all alone in the room. 

“So,” Johnny starts once Jisung is out of earsight. “Your new neighbour is a blood sucker.”

“Yes,” Doyoung says through gritted teeth. “We established that.”

“At the moment there’s not much more information I can offer you.” Johnny pats Doyoung’s knee in a friendly manner. “But I’m working on it. Remember, this is also my territory that’s being threatened.”

“I think he’s after Jaehyun,” Doyoung reveals, placing his hand on top of Johnny’s and digging his nails into his flesh. 

Johnny’s jaw clenches at the mention of the younger’s name. “What do you mean?”

“He keeps inviting him to that creepy mansion and…” He takes a second to gulp, swallowing his disgust. “And he tried to kiss him!”

Johnny gives him an exasperated look. “The world doesn’t revolve around your pretty boy.”

Doyoung scoffs. “You can’t blame me for being worried about a _fucking vampire_ pursuing my best friend.”

“I’m not blaming you for anything, I’m just trying to make you look at this from a more objective point of view.” Johnny leans back on his stool, withdrawing his hand from the witch’s thigh. “I know you want to protect your friend, but this is bigger than him.”

“So what do we do? We let him have his way with Jaehyun?”

Johnny pauses for a moment, then says, “yes.”

Doyoung barely holds back the urge to slap him. “Have you lost your mind?”

“Listen,” the older man chooses his words carefully. “If he’s so smitten with Jaehyun, then maybe we can use that against him.”

“You’re not using a kid as bait!”

“Will you act like an adult already!” Johnny fires back with his booming voice, silencing Doyoung immediately. “Nothing will happen to Jaehyun if you let me plan this whole thing properly!”

Doyoung bites his tongue, holding himself back. He knows that Johnny is right, that Yuta’s obvious attraction towards Jaehyun is a powerful tool to be used against him, but it still feels wrong—that’s his best friend, his love, and he’s sending him off to certain death. 

“If something were to happen to him, I would—” He struggles to find a word that can describe that much pain. “I would—”

“Nothing will happen to him.” Johnny’s voice is much softer this time, and his eyes are full of understanding. He’s lost people too, been through pains beyond words that no one except those of his same species can even begin to comprehend. “We will make sure of it.”

“He’s strong,” Doyoung says. “He may look delicate but he is so strong.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Johnny smiles kindly. “I don’t think you could have ever picked a weak person to fall in love with.”

The witch’s eyes widen. “Johnny—”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” he quickly answers. 

“Okay,” is all Doyoung can really say. “It’s okay.”

They stay in an uncomfortable silence for a few excruciating minutes. The air is thick, filled with unspoken words, and it weighs heavy in Doyoung’s lungs. There are things he’d like to say and things he would like to hear. Neither of those are heard. Instead, there’s only silence, and with it, a prolonged pain. 

“I’ll call you in a couple of days,” Johnny finally speaks after what feels like an eternity. “There are some issues I need to discuss with the pack.”

Doyoung sighs. There’s no arguing when it comes to Johnny’s pack. “Fine,” he speaks with resignation, pushing himself off the stool. He doesn’t have anything else to say, so he might as well leave. “Don’t take too long, or I’ll hunt you down.”

Johnny winks at him, and for a second everything feels right again. “Can’t wait.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes playfully before walking out of the bar, fully aware of Johnny’s warm eyes watching him closely.

⚕

Jaehyun has always prided himself on the fact that for both him and Doyoung, each other’s houses are like a second home. For him, knowing that they were always welcome in each other’s safe space is proof of the unconditional bond they share.

And yet, as he walks up the road— _their road_ —to Doyoung’s house, the only feeling he can name is dread. 

He walks up the steps of the old, decaying house with familiar ease. The vines are the first to greet him, and Jaehyun wonders if he actually saw them perk up at the sight of him or if it was a hallucination.

When he reaches the door, he considers walking in without knocking, as he had many times before, but he doesn’t get the chance to decide. The door opens abruptly, and Xiaojun collides against his chest, almost knocking him down.

“I’m sorry!” The younger boy quickly apologizes before running off again, up the street and into the town. 

Baffled, Jaehyun watches him go for a few seconds before turning around and walking into the house. He closes the door after himself, taking off his coat and shoes and leaving them in his assigned spot after over a decade of visiting.

“Jaehyun, hello!” Taeil greets him warmly, but he looks extremely tired.

“Taeil,” Jaehyun bows politely. He’s always been more than a little intimidated by Doyoung’s uncle. “Is Xiajoun okay?”

Taeil smiles reassuringly, but there’s an unsettling emotion hiding behind his smile. “Don’t worry, that was just a teenage tantrum.” He gives Jaehyun’s arm a friendly squeeze as he walks him into the house. “Are you looking for Doyoung?”

Jaehyun nods. “Is he home?”

“You’re lucky, he just got here.” Taeil points at the stairs with his chin. “He’s upstairs, in his room. You know the way.”

Jaehyun gives him a dimpled smile. “Thanks,” he says, before walking up towards Doyoung’s room. 

He stands in front of the familiar door for a few seconds, trying to think of what he wants to say to his best friend. He’s angry at him, so angry that he wants to kick the door down and scream, but he knows that doing so would get them nowhere.

So, instead, he wraps his long fingers around the knob and pushes the door open slowly, letting himself in without an invitation. 

“Wha—” He hears Doyoung say from where he is, hunched over his desk. “Jaehyunnie,” he gasps as soon as he recognizes his best friend.

“Hi,” Jaehyun greets him as he walks over to where Doyoung sits, but his friend is faster. He closes the ancient book he had been reading and stands up, moving to sit on his bed instead.

“Come here,” he pats the mattress, and the younger obliges. “I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon after—”

“Yeah,” Jaehyun cuts him off. “I wasn’t sure if I wanted to come, but I felt like I needed to.”

Doyoung nods in understanding. “Thank you,” he murmurs, refusing to look at the younger’s face.

Jaehyun takes a long, deep breath before speaking. “Listen, Doyoung,” he calls his best friend’s name, making him look up. “I understand your point of view, I really do, but this is _my life_. Not yours, not Yuta’s, not anyone else’s. I make my own decisions, whether you like it or not.”

“It’s not a matter of liking,” Doyoung speaks up, talking through gritted teeth. “I’m trying to take care of you, but you refuse to listen to me and instead choose to fool around with a man you haven’t even known for a month.”

“You’re such a hypocrite!” Jaehyun finally snaps, raising his voice at Doyoung for the first time in years. “I’m sick of you acting like you’re on this selfless crusade to protect me when we both know it’s not true.” Doyoung opens his mouth to respond, but Jaehyun doesn’t give him the chance. “You refuse to admit it because you believe it’s above you, but the truth is you’re jealous, and you’re possessive, and it kills you to see me with another man who’s braver than you for being open about his feelings!” 

Jaehyun feels himself begin to tear up, overwhelmed by his own feelings and sudden outbursts. Doyoung says nothing, simply staring at Jaehyun with a blank look on his face. His fists rest on his lap, clenched so hard that his knuckles have turned white. 

“Jaehyunnie,” the older’s voice is barely a whisper. “You’re being really unfair right now.”

Jaehyun gulps. “So are you,” he replies, voice threatening to break. 

“I guess you’re right,” Doyoung breathes out, exhausted. There are dark circles under his eyes that Jaehyun had failed to notice before, and he starts to feel painful, bitter guilt pool in his stomach. 

“I think I should leave,” Jaehyun says after a few minutes of palpable silence. 

“I don’t want you to leave like this,” Doyoung quickly goes to reach for his hand. 

Jaehyun squeezes his best friend’s hand with intent. “It’s okay, I’m not upset anymore.” He caresses the back with his thumb. “I’m sorry for what I said before.”

Doyoung shakes his head. “You were right.”

“Doesn’t mean I should have said it.” He apologizes as he lets go of Doyoung, moving to stand up. 

Doyoung watches him from the bed silently as he walks towards the door, looking at him with impossibly sad eyes. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Jaehyun teases with too much familiarity. “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?” He says as he pulls the door open.

Doyoung nods with a small smile. “Don’t do anything stupid tonight.”

Jaehyun snorts. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

⚕

Jaehyun isn’t by any means a planner. He is spontaneous, impulsive and instinctive—a dark contrast to Doyoung’s carefully-planned lifestyle. Perhaps that’s why they click, or perhaps it’s why they don’t nowadays.

Jaehyun doesn’t have time to ponder on his relationship with his best friend for long, because as soon as he spots the outline of the Myeong Manor from the road, his brain makes the decision to pay his neighbor a visit.

_It’s almost nighttime,_ he can hear Doyoung reprimanding him inside his head. _Don’t do anything stupid._

_Don’t do anything stupid._

Jaehyun shakes his head, trying to mute the voice. 

The massive gates greet him once he reaches the end of the gravel road that leads to Yuta’s house. He calms his nerves by patting his own face a couple of times before knocking loudly on the expensive wood. 

The door opens after what must have been a few seconds, and Jaehyun wonders if Yuta was standing close to it before. 

“That was unbelievably fast,” he immediately says. 

Yuta’s handsome face peeks from inside the manor. “Jaehyunnie! I wasn’t expecting to see you today.” He opens the door wider, stepping aside and almost hiding behind it. “Come in!”

Jaehyun steps in with confidence. His previous discussion with Doyoung—although the results are ambiguous at best—had felt like a small victory in his history of embarrassing defeats. He feels as if he’s finally growing into the confident adult he’s supposed to become soon; someone who speaks his mind, and who fights for what he wants. 

As his neighbour leads him into the living room with a wide smile on his face, Jaehyun makes a decision: what he wants right now is Yuta. 

“It’s so dark in here,” he comments as they step into the tastefully furnished living room. He sits on one of the velvet sofas as his eyes adjust to the dark.

“Ah, yes. Sorry about that,” Yuta gives him a slightly panicked smile, rushing to the fully covered windows. Jaehyun sees him discreetly stick his hand behind the heavy curtains, and upon getting no reaction, he pushes them aside. “Summer is coming to an end,” he says, and Jaehyun wonders why he sounds so happy. “The days are becoming shorter.”

“Do you not enjoy Summer?” Jaehyun asks him as he takes a seat right next to him, so close that their thighs are brushing. 

Yuta chuckles. “I’m not a big fan of the suffocating heat and humidity that come with it.”

Jaehyun nods, awkwardly playing with the sleeves of his flimsy sweater. When he arrived at the mansion, he felt like a man on a mission. However, seeing Yuta now, in all his mature and beautiful glory, is making him slowly but surely deflate. 

His hesitation must be obvious, because Yuta suddenly sits straight and places a hand on his shoulder, drawing his attention. It’s freezing cold, but Jaehyun quickly forgets about it as his eyes meet Yuta’s almond ones. 

“Jaehyun,” his neighbour speaks gently, voice tender. “I think we should finish the conversation from this morning.” 

Jaehyun nods shyly. “Yes, that’s why I came.”

“I figured,” Yuta’s hand leaves his shoulder, and it falls in between their thighs. Jaehyun holds back the urge to hold it. “Listen, I know I apologized earlier, but I still feel the need to do it again. I completely misread the situation and acted on my own selfish reasons without taking your feelings into consideration—”

“You don’t have to apologize at all,” Jaehyun suddenly speaks up, sounding more sure of himself than he ever has before around Yuta. “You didn’t misread anything.”

Yuta gives him a confused look. “Jaehyun…”

“You took me by surprise and I panicked because I am a stupid coward.” Yuta opens his mouth to protest, but Jaehyun doesn’t let him. “But that doesn’t mean you made me uncomfortable, or overstepped my boundaries.”

“What are our boundaries?” Yuta asks. He’s trying to fight the small grin that threatens to show on his face, and Jaehyun’s cheeks flare up. 

“What do you want them to be?” He raises a playful eyebrow, trying to mask his nervousness. 

Yuta snorts before leaning in all of a sudden, his face centimeters away from Jaehyun’s. His breath tickles the younger’s lips, and it sends shivers down his spine. “Can I kiss you?” He says, mouth moving so close to Jaehyun’s that it feels pointless to ask.

“Please,” Jaehyun breathes out, closing his eyes as Yuta’s lips collide against his own almost instantly. It’s a hard, bruising kiss, almost desperate. Jaehyun wonders if his neighbor had been wanting this for a long time, if he had known from the moment they had met that he wanted to taste Jaehyun. 

Yuta’s tongue brushes against Jaehyun’s lower lip, and he takes it as a sign to open his mouth. Yuta answers quickly, slipping his tongue into Jaehyun’s mouth much gentler than the younger was expecting. The kiss slows down then, turning langid and sensual, and Jaehyun whimpers against Yuta’s lips as the older sucks on his tongue with determination. 

“Fuck,” Yuta breaks the kiss so they can catch their breaths, but he doesn’t look fazed in the least bit. He quickly leans in again, pressing his lips to Jaehyun’s chin instead, and leaving a trail of kisses and nips down his jaw. He lays a palm on the younger’s chest, pushing him down until he’s resting on his back. Jaehyun’s eyes roll to the back of his head as Yuta sucks dark bruises on his neck, stealing short pecks here and there.

“You smell… _delicious_ ,” Yuta groans against Jaehyun’s lips, pressing a long kiss on his bottom lip before going back to attack his neck. 

“Yuta,” Jaehyun moans, more aroused than he’s ever been in his life, raising his hips as he chases some sort of relief.

And then, there’s cold. 

Jaehyun opens his eyes to find Yuta pushing himself up and off him, his mouth tightly shut. His eyes shine with almost predatory desire, and Jaehyun struggles to find a reason as to why they should stop.

“I think that’s enough for today,” Yuta rubs his face in an attempt to calm down. 

“Why?” Jaehyun sits up as well. He’s still a little breathless. 

Yuta gives him a teasing look. “Jaehyun, I’m not fucking you on this couch.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “I—I never said I wanted you to do that!” He feels his entire body light up with embarrassment. “I mean… It’s not that I _don’t_ want to, but—”

“Jaehyun,” Yuta chuckles, lips coated with shiny saliva. There’s no way to know if it’s his, or Jaehyun’s, or both, and the thought makes the younger’s stomach twist with satisfaction. “I think you should go home. Your mother will start missing you soon.”

Their eyes lock for a few seconds before Jaehyun finally nods, pushing himself up and into a sitting position. They walk to the door together, hand in hand. Yuta’s is smaller, but firmer, and although unsettlingly cold, it fits right into Jaehyun’s larger palm. 

Once they reach the entrance, the younger’s disappointment and hesitance must become obvious, because Yuta cups his cheeks with both hands and gives him one last lingering kiss. “You’re undoubtedly irresistible,” he tells Jaehyun, looking into his eyes with so much intensity that it makes his thighs tremble. “Come back tomorrow evening. We have a lot to discuss.”

Jaehyun steps out, looking over his shoulder one last time. Yuta gives him a warm smile, waving at him before shutting the door with finality.

As the human walks away and into the dark road, he fails to notice a pair of unmistakable red eyes, following his every move from behind a wide window. 

“Don’t make me kill you as well,” Taeyong warns Yuta, not needing to turn around to feel his presence in the bedroom.

“There will be no need,” Yuta answers.

The blood witch lets out an arrogant chuckle, his eyes still focused on the boy. “We will see.”


	4. Maidenhair Fern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Maidenhair Fern_ : secret bond of love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm really sorry this took so long!! thank you for being patient <3

There are few things Doyoung enjoys more than Johnny’s hot breath in between his legs. 

_His warm, strong fingers were digging into Doyoung’s pale thighs, leaving rosy marks to match the darker ones that his mouth had left._

_“Fuck,” Doyoung gasps when he feels the older’s breath ghost over his length. Johnny chuckles, but it sounds strange. Deeper, warmer, and awfully familiar. “You really like this, don’t you?” He speaks up, voice sweet like honey, soft like velvet, and Doyoung realizes._

_“Jaehyun!” He screams in shock, but that’s all he can say before the younger wraps his plumps lips around him, effectively shutting him up. His body jolts in both surprise and pleasure, making him hit his head against the headboard of his bed._

“Shit!” The pain wakes him up, and he curses under his breath as he rubs the crown of his head. The room is wrapped in complete darkness, except from the blaring red light coming from Doyoung’s bedside alarm clock. 

He doesn’t need to look to know the time, yet his head turns almost by muscle memory, and his eyes fall onto the clock instantly. 

3:33 am.

“Fuck you!” He screams in a fit of rage, wrapping his hand around the clock and smashing it against the opposite wall. His tantrum clouds his judgment, and it’s only after staring at the remains of the clock for a few minutes that he realizes that his outburst must have woken up the entire house. 

Doyoung lets out an exhausted sigh as he lets his upper body fall onto the bed again. He watches the fan turn and turn for what feels like hours, trying to push any and every memory of his dream away through some sort of homemade hypnosis. His body seems to disagree, however, because it keeps remembering the feeling of Jaehyun’s warm mouth and velvet tongue. 

Doyoung finally decides to get out of bed and make himself some tea in order to calm down, so he jumps out of bed and drags himself to the kitchen, shivering as his bare feet make contact with the cold wood. 

The kitchen is predictably empty, and Doyoung prepares his tea as silently as possible, picking his tea from the cupboard while the water starts to boil. He pours the hot water into his favorite mug and dips the teabag confidently, letting it soak in the water until it turns a vibrant red. 

He throws the bag away and turns around to return to his room, but he’s stopped in his tracks when he notices a dark figure in the doorway. 

“Jesus christ, Xiaojun,” he half screams, half whispers, clutching at his heart. The water flows dangerously close to the edge of the mug, threatening to spill. “Why are you up?”

Xiaojun walks into the kitchen and the moonlight falls on his face, making his dark eye bags visible. He looks absolutely miserable, his skin void of light and eyes tired and lifeless.

“I need some water,” is all he says as he opens the fridge to pull out a water bottle before downing it all in one go. He drops the empty bottle on the table and walks away without saying a word, leaving a shaken Doyoung alone in the middle of the kitchen. 

The older witch rubs his throbbing temple before walking out of the kitchen again, following Xiaojun’s path to the second floor. He watches the closed door to his cousin’s bedroom with sad eyes for a couple of seconds before shaking his head and pushing his own door open. 

His mug falls to the floor, shattering in a thousand pieces. 

There, on his nightstand, is the alarm clock in perfect condition.

⚕

After eighteen years of waking up to the sight of his white ceiling, Jaehyun can’t help but let out a loud yelp when the first thing he sees as he opens his eyes is Yuta’s handsome face hovering over his.

“Yuta!” He jumps in his bed, already feeling the impact of his forehead colliding against Yuta’s, but the older dodges it effortlessly. 

“Morning,” his neighbor says playfully, a teasing smirk on his face. 

“What the hell are you doing?” Jaehyun’s brain struggles to process it all—Yuta’s presence, his reason to visit, and how he’d come inside in the first place. “How did you even—”

“Your mom let me in,” he quickly explains. “She was quite happy to see me. You, on the other hand…” He looks at Jaehyun with a blatantly fake pout on his face.

“You just scared me, that’s all,” Jaehyun reassures the older. He pushes himself up, resting his weight on his elbows, and the movement makes his thighs brush against the inside of Yuta’s, who is still very much sitting on his lap. His cheeks catch on fire almost immediately, and he tries to push Yuta off of himself as gently as possible, using the bathroom as an escape. 

After brushing his teeth and washing his face with _very cold_ water, Jaehyun steps out of the en-suite a little bit more confidently than when he had walked in. 

He finds Yuta on the other side of the room, snooping around his desk. He turns his head partially, acknowledging Jaehyun’s presence, but his eyes never leave the desk, or more specifically, the framed pictures on it. 

“There’s so many of _him_ ,” he points out as the younger steps closer, moving to stand next to him in front of the desk. Jaehyun follows his line of sight until his eyes fall on the biggest picture on the desk—one of him and Doyoung, ages ten and twelve, with their arms around each other, drenched after playing around in the lake for hours. He realizes then that Yuta is right. Most of the pictures on his desk include Doyoung in one way or another, and some of them are just _of him_. Jaehyun gulps. He doesn’t know how to explain himself to Yuta, doesn’t even know where his relationship stands with either of them.

“Oh, my,” Yuta suddenly gasps, pulling Jaehyun out of his thoughts. He stretches his arms and boldly wraps his hands around one of the frames, picking it up for closer inspection. “Who’s this?”

Jaehyun steps closer to examine the picture, and his breath catches in his throat. 

“That’s Taeyong,” he answers. “Doyoung’s brother.”

The picture Yuta is holding is the only one he’d allowed himself to keep after Taeyong’s disappearance. It’s nothing special, an amateur shot taken by Taeil one of the many nights Jaehyun stayed over as a kid. The three of them are tucked into bed, the youngest pressed in between the other two, and all of their faces are contorted with what he remembers to have been barking laughter. 

“Oh, right.” Yuta puts the frame down, placing it back in its spot among the rest. “I thought he looked familiar. Isn’t he the one on the posters?”

Jaehyun rubs the back of his neck. “Yes, he is,” he simply answers. 

His neighbor must sense his discomfort, because he immediately drops the subject and turns to face Jaehyun with a kind smile. He wraps his hands around the younger’s face, pulling him down so he can softly kiss his forehead, nose and both of his cheeks, before finally pressing their lips together in a lingering kiss. 

“Get dressed,” Yuta says once they finally pull away. “We’re going into town.” 

For a lazy summer morning, the town center is bustling with unusual life. Jaehyun spots a few of his classmates, who greet him with casual nods and hand waves. He doesn’t miss the way they all look at Yuta with strange eyes, perhaps not baffled by his foreigner status as much as by the fact that he isn't Doyoung. 

Yuta chats his ear off with an icy cold grip on Jaehyun’s arm as he leads him to the bookshop. Jaehyun’s starting to suspect that it was opened more to combat boredom than out of necessity, but he keeps his thoughts to himself as Yuta opens the shop confidently. He doesn’t really know why the older dragged him into town, but he guesses that they don’t need reasons or excuses to want to see each other anymore—they’ve both made their intentions very clear. 

“I’m not expecting many customers today,” Yuta says as he holds the door open for Jaehyun. “Well, to be honest, I don’t expect many customers ever.”

Jaehyun chuckles. “As long as it keeps you busy.”

Yuta rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’ve been very busy dusting off books,” he jokes, words dripping in sarcasm. 

Jaehyun watches intently as Yuta walks behind the counter, shrugging off his jacket and exposing his toned shoulders. He’s very thin, but there’s some muscle underneath his impossibly pale skin, and it’s on display in front of Jaehyun for the very first time. He can already feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and ears, so he tears his gaze away from Yuta’s tantalizing body, focusing on the shelf to his left instead. If the older notices anything, he doesn’t mention it. Instead, he watches fondly as Jaehyun roams around the shop with curious eyes, his elegant fingers brushing against the book spines. 

“See anything you like?” Yuta asks when he notices Jaehyun’s eyes fixated on a certain spot in one of the shelves. 

Jaehyun bends down to grab one of the books, examining the cover for a few seconds before walking back to the counter. “Dracula,” he reads aloud once he’s in front of Yuta. “I’ve heard about this before.”

Yuta smirks at him, and his eyes shine with an emotion Jaehyun can’t pinpoint. “Ah, yes. It’s a classic.”

“Taeyong liked it,” Jaehyun explains as he opens the book and skims over some of the pages. “He was the only one of us who liked to read.” He can’t help but let out a snort as the memories of the older’s constant nagging briefly come back to him. “Do you like it?” He suddenly asks Yuta, desperate to drift the conversation away from the topic of Taeyong. 

Yuta cocks his head. “I find it to be a bit too… unrealistic for my tastes.” He waves a dismissive hand. “But it’s still an excellent book, of course. If you want, you can keep that copy.”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen in surprise. “What? Oh, no. Yuta, I can’t accept—”

“Nonsense,” Yuta cuts him off. “I’m gifting it to you because I want you to have it.”

“But—”

“Stop it!” Yuta lets out a loud laugh. “Come here, I’ll wrap it in decorative paper so you’ll believe me when I say it’s a gift.”

Jaehyun can’t help but oblige, handing Yuta the book before stepping behind the counter and taking a seat next to him. He watches his neighbor wrap the book expertly for a while, delicate fingers folding the paper as gently as possible. His attention shifts to the display window when he catches a sudden movement out of the corner of his eye, and he swallows a gasp when he recognizes the person walking in front of the shop, as well as their companion. 

“Yuta.” Jaehyun places a hand on his neighbor’s shoulder. “Can you give me a second?”

He’s asking for permission, even though the decision’s already been made. His entire body itches with the need to run after _them_.

“Uhm,” Yuta gives him a strange look, but he still shrugs. “Sure.”

“Thanks!” Jaehyun sprints towards the door. “I’ll be right back!”

Once outside, it takes him a second to spot them again. Johnny’s way too tall to get lost in the small crowd of their modest town square. And, of course, Doyoung is the one person Jaehyun thinks he would recognize instantly in a sea of millions. 

He walks behind them for a short while, fully aware of how creepy he must look, but he just can’t wrap his head around the idea of Doyoung, _his_ Doyoung, and Johnny, the owner of the rowdiest bar in town, casually spending time together. Doyoung looks comfortable, he looks _happy_ , and the confident, appeased smile on Johnny’s face makes something inside Jaehyun burn in fury. 

“Who is that?” Someone behind Jaehyun says, startling him out of his anger-induced haze. He turns around to find Yuta, whose eyes were following Doyoung and Johnny’s every move.

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun instantly replies. 

“Not _him_ ,” Yuta says through gritted teeth, and it’s the first time Jaehyun’s seen him like this. His eyes still have not left the two men, and they look darker than ever. “The other one.”

“Who? Johnny? He’s just a guy from around here.”

Yuta’s eyes finally leave the pair, and they look up to Jaehyun with fiery hot rage. “No one is _just a guy_ , Jaehyun. Don’t be stupid, it’ll get you killed,” is the last thing he says before he turns around, walking back to his shop without sparing Jaehyun a second glance.

⚕

Getting in bed with his outside clothes on is proving to be more uncomfortable than Jaehyun had anticipated. His jeans ruffle the cotton sheets, and the harder fabric of his jacket digs into his back painfully.

And yet he buries himself under the covers, hiding his entire body so that only the top of his head can be visible. He’s a man on a mission, willing to endure a few minutes of pain for the greater good. 

The soft feel of his sheets against his lips reminds him of the way Yuta had pressed their mouths together in a parting kiss less than an hour ago. The older had walked Jaehyun to his house after their tense conversation about Johnny and Doyoung. He’d apologized for the way he spoke to Jaehyun before handing him his book and kissing his lips softly in a silent farewell. The younger had tried to assure him that everything was alright, but the look of concern hadn’t left Yuta’s face for the entire afternoon, which made Jaehyun wonder. What could have shaken Yuta so much to make him lose his otherwise unbreakable composure? 

Jaehyun doesn’t have much more time to ponder on this, his thoughts of Yuta coming to a halt once he hears his mother’s footsteps walking up the staircase. He buries himself further in the covers, and prays to whatever god is listening that his mother doesn’t notice anything suspicious. 

“Jaehyunnie—Oh!” She lets out a small gasp once she notices her incorrigible night-owl son already in bed. “What’s this?” She chuckles, walking towards the bed and sitting on the edge. “It’s quite early for you, isn’t it?”

Jaehyun returns the smile, but he tries to appear as tired as possible. “Today was a long day,” he yawns. “The town was very busy.”

She nods, because she really has no reason to not trust her son’s words. “Well, I’ll let you sleep, then.” She bends down and presses a warm kiss to Jaehyun’s forehead, brushing the hair off his face. “Sleep well, baby. I love you.”

“Love you too,” he mumbles, pretending to be half asleep. 

His mother walks out, the door clicks. 

Jaehyun kicks the covers off of himself, revealing his fully clothed body. He puts on a pair of boots that he’d sneaked in from downstairs earlier, and moves to open the window as silently as he can. He takes a peek outside, trying to estimate the distance from his window to the floor, but it quickly proves to be counterproductive, because he feels a shiver of vertigo run down his spine. 

Calming himself with a couple of slow, deep breaths, Jaehyun pushes himself up and throws one leg over the window frame, then another. He watches his feet dangle for a couple of seconds, the soft summer breeze ruffling his hair. The nights are getting colder as summer comes to an end, and Jaehyun empties his head of anything and everything as he lets his body fall to the ground. 

The impact proves to be much less painful that Jaehyun had been expecting. His knees burn from the collision, but the sensation subsides after a couple of minutes, allowing him to stand up and shake off any dead leaves that had stuck to his clothes. 

Before he can regret his decision, Jaehyun starts walking away. Something tugs at the back of his head—a warning, perhaps, or an omen. He knows he’s not in danger, and yet, he feels heavy, thick dread pool in his stomach. 

After tonight, nothing will ever be the same. 

The Claw’s clientele is not exactly what Jaehyun identifies most with. Although it’s surprisingly diverse, they all seem to have one thing in common—pure adoration for the owner. 

Johnny is sitting discreetly in a corner, but it’s almost as if there’s a spotlight shining down on him. As soon as Jaehyun steps into the rowdy bar, his eyes are immediately drawn to the taller man. He’s undeniably attractive, but the overly confident way in which he carries himself makes Jaehyun’s blood boil. 

Without bothering to look around much, Jaehyun starts walking towards Johnny’s table. There’s someone else sitting across from him—even taller and broader, with icy blond hair. 

Johnny spots him quickly, and he gives Jaehyun a strange look as the younger finally reaches their table. 

“Jung Jaehyun,” he says as a form of greeting. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jaehyun gulps. He’s not surprised that Johnny knows his name—after all, he is apparently close to Doyoung—but he still feels uncomfortable after hearing it coming from the older’s plump lips. 

“Hello, Suh,” Jaehyun greets him back. “And…” 

“Chanyeol,” Johnny says, and Jaehyun can’t tell if he’s answering the silent question or addressing the other man. Possibly both—he seems like a smart man. “We can continue this conversation later.”

The blond guy nods, a cheeky smile on his face. He stands up, towering over Jaehyun so easily that it gives him vertigo. Jaehyun gives him a short nod, concealing his animosity as best as he can, and he takes the now empty seat.

“So,” Johnny draws his attention again. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jaehyun holds his edged stare. Johnny’s eyes flash with fury at the teen’s sudden courage. He doesn’t look like a guy who likes having his authority questioned, and just from the five minutes that Jaehyun has spent in the bar, he can easily tell that it doesn’t happen often. 

“How do you know Doyoung?” He finally asks after a short but intense staring contest. It’s obvious that neither of them enjoy small talk, so he gets straight to the point. 

Johnny snorts. “I knew this day would come, but I thought you’d be too much of a wimp to confront me here, in my territory.”

Jaehyun scoffs. “Your territory? What are you, a _dog_?” He spits, returning Johnny’s hostility. 

Johnny’s stare hardens. “You’re awfully brave for a brat as lanky as you. What would Doyoung think if he knew you were asking around about him?”

Jaehyun’s nails dig into his palms. “Why don’t you answer my question instead of dodging it like a coward?”

Johnny rolls his eyes, but Jaehyun can tell that he’s struck a nerve from the way the taller’s fists clench on the table. “We’re friends,” he answers simply, but Jaehyun can tell that there’s more to it. He’d never seen Doyoung out in town with anyone who wasn’t his own family or himself.

“Then why has he never mentioned you before?”

Johnny sneers at him. “Maybe you shouldn’t ask so many questions. You might find something that could upset you.”

“Please,” Jaehyun laughs sarcastically. “I’m not five years old.”

Johnny raises his eyebrows in defiance. “Fine. You really want to know?” 

“If I didn’t I would have left as soon as I stepped into this junkyard.”

Johnny gives him a look of utter hatred, and it appears so deep-rooted in him that Jaehyun wonders if the older had hated him from afar even before he had ever opened his bratty mouth in his presence. 

“Doyoung and I were sleeping together,” he confesses, and the breath is knocked out of Jaehyun. 

“No, you—you're lying,” the younger gasps, incredulous. 

Johnny chuckles, and he’s wrapped in an air of satisfaction that makes Jaehyun nauseous. “Why would I? The truth is hurtful enough, although I know you’ll be happy to hear that he broke things off a few months ago.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh, and Jaehyun can tell that the wound caused by Doyoung hasn’t healed yet. “Still, the past can’t be erased, which means that you’ve tasted my spit a couple of times, from what knowledge I have.”

“You fucker!” Jaehyun stands up abruptly, kicking the chair behind him. He holds back the urge to throw himself on Johnny because, as much as he wants to beat the shit out of him, he’s well aware that he would lose that fight. So, instead, he clenches his fists so tightly that his knuckles turn white, and he swallows the humiliation of having the entire bar watching him after his sudden outburst.

“Is that it?” Johnny taunts him, eyes filled with cruel satisfaction. “Go ahead, hit me. Or maybe you should call your weirdo boyfriend, I’ve heard he has special talents of his own.”

Jaehyun struggles to understand Johnny’s comment, or why he would mention Yuta at all, but he’s filled with such rage that his mind pushes it aside quickly. He has other matters to attend to. 

“Fuck you,” is the last thing he says to Johnny before storming out of The Claw, dozens of golden eyes watching him go.

⚕

It isn’t strange for it to rain in the summer in their area, especially once the warm days started to blend into the cooler autumn nights. Still, the restless storm catches Doyoung off guard, who runs to his room to close his window after sharing a cup of coffee with his uncles. Fortunately, his papers have mostly survived, save for a couple of droplets that have dampened them slightly.

It’s not like there is anything valuable written in them. His research so far has been essentially fruitless, and he keeps running into dead ends. 

There isn’t much information on vampires—or _children of the night_ , as most entries call them—, and if there is, it certainly isn’t easy to find it in this dead town. What little he could find is inconsequential as well, since no one seems to agree on what really makes a vampire. They all agree on the blood drinking, of course, which doesn’t really calm Doyoung’s nerves at all, because it confirms his suspicions about Yuta being potentially dangerous. Their other traits, however, are a little more unclear. Immortality, inhuman strength and speed, enhanced senses, vulnerability to sunlight, aversion to garlic, or even shapeshifting are some of the ones he’s been able to find. He’s heard of them before, of course, after all, they're part of pop culture now. Most of them sound ridiculous, but then again, wouldn’t his own abilities as a witch appear absurd to anyone who isn't aware of their existence? 

Doyoung rubs his face in frustration and drops himself on his bed. How is he supposed to confront Yuta if he doesn’t know what he’s going up against? Are vampires weaker than witches? Or does their strength depend on their age? Are they influenced by the stages of the moon like witches and werewolves are? 

Doyoung wonders if his uncle would allow him to take a short trip to the city to visit the Conclave’s immense library—which no doubt must hold _some_ sort of record about vampires, according to what he overheard Taeil and Kun say. Online forums aren’t exactly the most reliable source. 

His thoughts are interrupted by a sudden, loud knock on the main door. The sound of the rain colliding against his window is so deafening that Doyoung barely heard it, but a second, even louder one confirms it. He quickly walks out of his room and down the stairs, but Taeil is faster. 

“Oh, God!” His uncle lets out a shriek the moment he opens the door. “What are you doing? Come in!” 

Doyoung sprints down the last couple of steps, his curious nature taking over him. 

The curiousity doesn’t last long, though, because he immediately recognizes the figure standing on his porch. “Jaehyun!” Doyoung runs to the door and grabs his best friend’s arm, dragging him inside. He’s completely soaked, from his clothes to his hair and his face, covered in tiny drops of water, which he wipes with his sleeve. “What is wrong with you? What were you thinking, walking around like this during a storm?” He asks angrily as he helps Jaehyun out of his drenched boots.

“I got caught up in it on my way home,” he explains with a tiny voice, holding onto Doyoung’s shoulders for balance. A small puddle is already forming around him, and he blushes in embarrassment. “Sorry, Taeil.”

“It’s okay,” Taeil speaks softly. He looks much more concerned about Jaehyun than about his already decaying wooden floor, if the way he gently helps him out of his jacket means anything. “Go take a warm bath, I’ll try to dry your clothes.” 

Jaehyun obediently walks up the stairs and into the bathroom, comfortable in this house as if it were his own. Doyoung follows closely, helping his exhausted friend out of his heavy, soaked clothes. Jaehyun steps into the tub once the water is nearly boiling hot, and he lets his entire body sink in the water for a few seconds. Once he resurfaces, his skin has begun to redden due to the temperature of the water.

Or perhaps it’s due to Doyoung’s dark eyes on him. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” he mumbles, trying to cover himself under the water. The tips of his ears have turned red as well. 

“I don’t even know where to begin, Jaehyun,” Doyoung says, finally tearing his gaze away from his best friend. “It’s one in the morning. Do I even want to know where you’ve been?”

Jaehyun remains silent, rubbing his arms absent-mindedly. 

“At least tell me you weren’t with _him_.” Doyoung dreads the answer.

“That’s awfully hypocritical of you,” Jaehyun speaks monotonously, yet his words are anything but. The air shifts immediately, and Doyoung can already sense another big confrontation coming. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I decided to pay The Claw a visit,” Jaehyun explains, and Doyoung feels his blood turn ice cold. 

No way. 

“There’s a lot of interesting individuals there, I’m sure you know this already,” the boy continues, not even looking at his friend. “One of them was more than happy to share his story with me. Imagine my surprise when I heard just how _frequently_ you liked to visit his bar!” He laughs sarcastically.

“Jae—”

“How could you hide this from me?” Jaehyun starts to raise his voice, and his eyes are glossy with tears of rage. “Not only that, but you also have the nerve to judge me for my relationship with Yuta, when you’ve been fooling around with Johnny. Because we all know that he’s the most responsible, safest guy around here, right?”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Doyoung says through gritted teeth. 

“I know exactly what I’m talking about!” Jaehyun punches his own knee angrily, splashing water everywhere. “You want to continue to judge my relationship with Yuta? Fine! But don’t you dare use my safety as an argument, because we both know that it’s just an excuse.”

“An excuse for what?” Doyoung dares him, because he’s tired. He’s tired of fighting and going in circles, all because neither of them wants to admit what they both already know. 

Jaehyun holds his gaze and, for a moment, Doyoung fears he might actually say it out loud. His heart misses a beat, and his stomach twists in sheer terror. 

But Jaehyun stays silent. He sighs, running his fingers through his wet hair, and the moment is over. 

“I—I’ll go get you some clothes,” Doyoung mutters, running out of the room and away from Jaehyun. 

They’re not ready yet, he knows. But he wishes they were. He wishes he could storm into that bathroom again, and smash his lips against Jaehyun’s. He wishes that his best friend would reciprocate, that he would move his mouth against Doyoung’s just as enthusiastically, that he would touch him and tell him he loved him and do all those things that Doyoung felt they were born to do together. _Destined for each other_ , Taeil often says, and Doyoung’s heart couldn’t help but agree passionately.

But they can’t. Not yet. They have other issues to deal with, like the fact that a vampire has moved into their town. 

Once he returns to the bathroom, pijamas in hand, he finds Jaehyun out of the bathtub already. He’s still completely naked—long, lean body on full display. Doyoung quickly hands him the clothes, which he puts on silently. He barely acknowledges the older’s existence as he dries his hair with a towel and brushes it. 

Doyoung walks out of the bathroom and into his room, expecting Jaehyun to follow, so he whips around in surprise when he hears the stairs creak.

“What are you doing?” He asks, taken aback. 

Jaehyun shrugs from the top of the stairs. “I’m going to sleep on the couch.”

Doyoung’s heart contracts painfully. “Why? You don’t need to do that.”

“I thought you were mad at me.”

Doyoung rolls his eyes, and he walks towards the taller boy to wrap a hand around his wrist. “We’ve slept in the same bed after fist fighting for hours, you think I care about a little quarrel?” He drags Jaehyun into his room. “Besides, I’m not cruel enough to let you sleep on that decomposing couch.”

Jaehyun lets out a soft chuckle, an indicator that his anger is dying down as well, and Doyoung’s chest feels lighter. They get into bed as comfortably as one would after years of sharing the same bed. Jaehyun buries himself under the covers so that only the top of his head is visible. Doyoung lets out a warm laugh and moves to turn off the bedside lamp, dropping himself on the bed after. 

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun calls him after a few minutes of silence. He’s only slightly visible thanks to the moonlight peeking from between Doyoung’s curtains. 

“Yes?” He turns his head to look at his best friend. 

“One day I’ll be brave enough,” is all he says, but Doyoung understands perfectly. 

He reaches out and caresses Jaehyun’s soft cheek with the back of his hand. 

“I know. Me too.”


	5. Begonia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Begonia_ : beware
> 
> (trigger warning for blood and slight gore in this chapter)

Doyoung stands in the middle of their unmistakable road. He tries to recall how he got there, but his efforts are fruitless. He looks behind himself, expecting to find the familiar shape of his home, but he finds nothing. There is only an endless path, identical to the one in front of him, and Doyoung feels his guts twist with fear. 

There’s something oddly terrifying about seeing the place that has raised you completely corrupted. 

Figuring that there’s no point in staying where he is, Doyoung decides to walk—in the direction where Jaehyun’s house is supposed to be. He’s barefoot, dressed in his pajamas, and the gravel feels warm under his naked feet, probably due to the sun exposure. It shines on him with an almost punishing heat, and Doyoung can feel his skin starting to burn. 

He walks for what feels like hours, wondering if he should have stayed behind instead, when he sees it. There, standing timidly amongst the tall trees, is the only sign of human activity in the entire road—Myeong Manor. 

Knowing what evil lurks inside, Doyoung questions if he’s safer walking on this seemingly endless road for the rest of his life or going inside the damned manor.

In the end, he chooses to go inside. Maybe the answer to restoring the natural order of thing was inside the house; it certainly seems so, with the way it shines under the blinding sunlight. 

Doyoung walks up to the iron gates, which screech loudly when he pushes them open. There’s still another short path that leads to the main door, and his calves cry out in exhaustion. Doyoung sighs tiredly and—

There’s something on the stone steps. The light marble is covered in something dark, and a figure lies at the top, but as much as Doyoung squints his eyes, he can’t tell what it is. 

He walks closer, slowly. The stone burns the soles of his feet. There’s not a single sound to be heard. 

And then, “ _Doyoung_ ,” the figure moans in pain, and he recognizes the voice instantly.

“Jaehyun!” He screams in sheer terror, running to his best friend. 

The scene is horrifying. Gushes and gushes of blood pour endlessly out of Jaehyun’s punctured throat, and they cover the otherwise immaculate steps in a crimson stream. The wound on Jaehyun’s neck is nothing Doyoung has ever seen before—two punctures in a vertical line, right on his artery—, but he knows exactly what it is. 

“No,” he sobs, kneeling in front of Jaehyun’s weakened body. His skin is ghostly pale, and Doyoung struggles to understand how he’s still alive after having lost so much blood. “No, please, Jaehyunnie. Please don’t do this.”

“Doyoung,” Jaehyun speaks again, in a barely audible whisper. He raises a hand to caress Doyoung’s cheek, coating it in thick, warm blood. “I knew you’d come.”

“I told you!” Doyoung yells, completely out of it. “I fucking told you, you stupid idiot!”

Jaehyun’s hand drops, lifeless. He’s dead. 

Doyoung wakes up. 

Immediately, he realizes that he’d been woken up by the sound of his own sobbing. His cheeks are wet, and his heart is racing, hammering almost painfully in his chest. Outside, the sun shines faintly, with that soft, timid lighting that Doyoung instantly attributed to summer mornings. 

Beside him, the bed is empty. 

“Jaehyun?” He asks, voice raspy from crying. He gets no answer. 

Pushing himself out of bed with slow, sleepy motions, Doyoung manages to shuffle downstairs, where he finds his small family sharing breakfast. However, there’s no trace of Jaehyun. 

“He left already,” Xiaojun suddenly speaks, mouth full of toast and homemade apricot jam. 

“Hm?” Doyoung’s sleep-clouded brain struggles to understand his cousin’s vague statement.

“Jaehyun,” Xiaojun clarifies, not without rolling his eyes. He looks better than he has in weeks, with rosy cheeks and bright skin. “He left half an hour ago. Apparently, he needed to get home before his mother found out he had snuck out.”

Doyoung nods, taking a seat next to Taeil around the kitchen table. “Are you alright?” His uncle says after noticing Doyoung’s cloudy stare. 

“Just fine,” Doyoung shakes his head, attempting to freshen up. “I had a bad dream.”

Kun shrugs. He’s spreading raspberry jam on his toast, and some of it drips from the edge, staining the white plate in dark, thick red. “You’ve been studying so much, what do you expect? You need to let your brain rest.”

Doyoung gulps, his eyes trained on the repetitive motions of Kun’s knife. “Yeah,” he eventually sighs. “I guess you’re right.”

⚕

The morning light is beautiful in an almost mocking way as Jaehyun walks down the road, dreading the scene he is about to find at home. He can only hope that mentioning Doyoung would calm his mom’s nerves, but he really is in no position to use his best friend as an alibi considering their situation.

The outline of Myeong Manor catches his eye from between the thick trees that grew around it during the many years it spent abandoned. 

What is it about the massive mansion that draws Jaehyun in whenever he so much as catches sight of it? 

The answer is ridiculously simple, he realizes, as soon as he spots Yuta’s car parked on the front—a clear sign that the owner was currently at home. His insides twist yearningly, and Jaehyun can’t contain his smile at the thought of paying his favorite neighbor a surprise visit. 

He pushes the main gates open with confidence, letting himself into the front garden. The pebble path crunches under his feet as he skips towards the entrance, jumping up the stone steps excitedly. He raises a bold fist, ready to knock, when he notices that the door is already open. Feeling slightly less courageous, Jaehyun peeks inside, poking his head through the heavy doors.

“Hello?” He says, but he gets no answer. His deep voice rings through the massive foyer, showcasing both its size and its emptiness. 

Jaehyun bites his bottom lip as he invites himself in, closing the door behind himself. The heavy curtains are still drawn and he can’t help but wonder how Yuta can live in this gigantic house without even a spark of natural light. 

“Yuta?” He tries again, but to no avail. Jaehyun allows himself one last moment of insecurity as he rubs the back of his neck before taking a deep breath and strides into the first lounge, the other room he’d been in before. As expected, it’s empty as well. 

Puzzled at Yuta’s absence, Jaehyun looks around, wondering what to do next. At the very end of the room, he notices the slightest stream of light, virtually the only source of illumination in the entire room. Driven by his curiosity, Jaehyun approaches it, only to find another door, cracked open. 

Slowly, he pushes it open, revealing a large corridor full of identical doors. Frustrated, he lets out a heavy sigh. How on Earth was he supposed to find Yuta’s elusive self in this maze of a manor?

Ready to give up, Jaehyun decides to try one last door before turning around and heading home. He picks the one closest to him, as it would be less likely for him to get lost on his way back. 

However, he soon realizes that his lucky guess had been right. 

The room he finds himself in is grandiose and breathtakingly beautiful. The sun bathes the entire room in warm light through the magnificent window panel that stands proudly in front of Jaehyun, covering the entire wall. There’s a long dinner table in the middle of the room, and at the head sits Yuta, seemingly unaware of the younger’s presence. All his attention seems to be concentrated in the bright blue flower he spins between his graceful fingers. Jaehyun recognizes it easily, he’s seen it countless of times before—it’s wolfsbane. 

“Hello,” he greets Yuta casually.

His neighbor jumps in his seat, startled by Jaehyun’s sudden appearance. “Jaehyun!” he recovers quickly, flashing him a charming smile. “I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Sorry for showing up unannounced,” he apologizes as he walks up to the table with a shy smile on his face. “Where did you get wolfsbane?”

Yuta’s eyes widen in surprise. “You recognized it?” He looks somewhere between stunned and troubled, as if he can’t decided whether Jaehyun’s knowledge is a good or a bad thing.

“Yeah, of course.” Jaehyun takes a seat right next to Yuta, propping his elbow on the table and resting his chin on his hand. “Doyoung’s family grow it in their own backyard.”

Yuta snorts. Somehow he doesn’t seem too surprised by that piece of information. “Of course they do.”

Jaehyun frowns. “Why do you need it, anyway? Isn’t it highly poisonous for humans?”

Yuta smiles. His skin glistens under the sunlight, healthy and firm. He looks better than he has in a while, less pale and sunken. His cheeks have regained a somewhat rosy color and his lips are shiny and plump. He looks beautiful—he looks _alive_.

“It’s for… protection.” Yuta’s ominous answer is lost to Jaehyun, entirely focused on admiring his neighbor’s elegant profile.

“You look beautiful today,” he blurts out, too caught up in his own thoughts. 

Yuta lets out a surprised laugh, clearly amused by Jaehyun’s moment of weakness. “You look beautiful _everyday_ ,” he quickly counterattacks, always the sharpest of the two.

Jaehyun feels his blush spread to his ears, melting under Yuta’s blazing stare. 

“Come here, you big baby,” Yuta says, gesturing for Jaehyun to move closer. He obliges obediently. 

Their lips meet in a soft kiss, framed by the warm sunlight. They kiss slowly, almost languidly, like the have all the time in the world—eternity. For the first time, Yuta’s lips have a strong taste, but Jaehyun can’t seem to pinpoint what exactly it is. It’s sharp, heavy and metallic. It almost tastes like—

“Oh my God,” Jaehyun pulls away suddenly. “Are you bleeding?”

Yuta frowns, and he inserts two fingers into his own mouth, brushing them with his tongue. When he pulls them out, they’re covered in a diluted but unmistakable shade of red. Yuta’s eyes widen, and he licks his lips again, as if trying to get rid of the evidence.

“Is everything okay?” Jaehyun asks, voice deep with concern. He can still taste the blood on his tongue, and the coppery flavor makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up.

Yuta shakes his head dismissively. “Don’t worry about it,” he murmurs as he wipes the corner of his mouth with his expensive satin shirt. “It’s nothing.”

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow, but he says nothing. He supposes there’s nothing too worrying about a mouth injury, but the taste of blood isn’t exactly something he craves.

“I’m sorry for ruining it,” Yuta apologizes, caressing Jaehyun’s cheek with his clean hand. 

Jaehyun places his hand on top of Yuta’s. “It’s okay, Yuta,” he flashes the man a charming, dimpled smile. “That’s the thing about human bodies—they bleed.”

Yuta returns his smile, white teeth glinting. “Yes, they do.” His hand drops from Jaehyun’s cheek. 

The sun shines blindingly through the glass, and Jaehyun lets out an exhausted sigh. “I should go,” he says as he stands up. “My parents are _expecting me_ ,” he groans with dread. 

Yuta chuckles pitifully. “Yes, go. Today’s weather is perfect for spending quality time with your family.”

Jaehyun lets out a loud laugh. “Oh, it’ll be quality time, alright.”

⚕

“Jung Jaehyun!” His mother shrieks and runs to the foyer before he even has the chance to step into the house. “Do you have any idea how worried I was?”

Jaehyun sighs as he sits on the bench to kick his shoes off and shrug out of his jacket. He’d known his mother would react like this, always so out of proportion when it came to his safety and whereabouts, but it doesn’t mean it couldn’t annoy him to no end. “Mom, relax. I’m fine.”

“ _Fine_?” She spits. “Where were you all night?”

“At Doyoung’s,” he tells her. It’s not the whole truth, but it’s not exactly a lie either, and he knows it’ll keep her satisfied.

“Listen to me.” She steps into his space and grabs his chin harshly, pulling his face up to meet her eyes. Jaehyun gasps at the unexpected force, and his eyes widen in shock.

“Mom—”

“I said listen. This town isn’t safe anymore. From now on I want you home before sundown, and if you plan on staying at Doyoung’s you need to tell me beforehand. Understood?”

Jaehyun gapes at her, in shock. His mother has always been a bit dramatic, but she has allowed Jaehyun to move freely in town. “What’s gotten into you?” He snaps out of his shock with a dignified huff, batting his mother’s hand away. “I’m a legal adult; you can’t control when I come in and out of this house,” he claims as he stands up and walks to the stairs.

“Have you not heard the news?” His mother asks, genuinely surprised.

Jaehyun raises an eyebrow. “What news?”

She gulps before speaking. “They found a girl last night. A girl’s body,” she specifies. “She was from the neighboring town. Completely drained of blood, but her corpse was fresh. It’s the second one found in the county this month.” She rubs her forehead tiredly. “But the first one was a boy.”

Jaehyun breathes out shakily. In his entire life living in this town, he’s never heard of a crime worse than petty theft happening inside their borders, much less something as gruesome as serial murders. He understands his mother’s concerns, but he’s also a young man—death is nothing but a distant, abstract concept to him, far from a present threat. 

“Mom…” He steps closer to her with a soft expression. “I know you’re worried about me, but you can’t ask me to stop living my life just because of a possibility.”

She shakes her head in defeat. “At least promise me you’ll call if you plan on spending the night out.”

He nods before pressing a kiss on her forehead. This much, he agrees to. “I promise.” He lets go of her and moves to walk up the stairs. “I’m gonna go shower now, but let’s have lunch together later.”

She rolls her eyes, reluctantly admitting defeat, but she steps into the kitchen anyway. Jaehyun walks up to their second floor, wrapping a hand around his doorknob.

“You should listen to your mother,” his father’s deep, imposing voice interrupts him before he can open his door.

Jaehyun turns around to look at his father, who stands at the end of the hallway with his arms crossed. “Excuse me?” He scoffs. 

“I don’t care that you’re an adult now,” his father argues as he steps closer to Jaehyun. “Your mother and I are the authority here, and we will continue to be for as long as you live under our roof.”

“ _Our roof_ ,” Jaehyun laughs sarcastically. “This is anyone’s roof but yours. You don’t even live here most of the time.”

“But I pay your bills, don’t I? I put food on your table and clothes in your closet, and yet you have the nerve to disrespect me and your mother.”

“I don’t disrespect her any more than you do.” Jaehyun is shaking with anger. “When was the last time _you_ listened to her? When was the last time you kissed her?”

“That’s none of your business,” his father warns him with a hard glare.

“Then don’t make it my business by picking a fight you can’t win.” Jaehyun pushes the door open. “See you at lunch, or not.”

⚕

**Me 12:25**

I need to talk to you

Where can we meet?

**Johnny 12:27**

Hello to you too

The Claw is closed this week

Full moon soon

**Me 12:27**

Can we meet there, then?

We need privacy

**Johnny 12:28**

Sure

If you don’t mind the raging hormones

**Me 12:28**

I doubt it’ll smell any worse than it already does

I’ll see you at 5

**Johnny 12:30**

Jesus

Fine

Doyoung throws his phone on the bed before dropping himself next to it. He rubs his eyes, hissing in pain. They’re dry and swollen from hours of fruitless researching, and his back is all knotted after spending the entire morning hunched over his desk. 

The lack of success in his studying has quickly made him understand that there’s nothing he can do from the comfort of his collapsing home, at least without Taeil and Kun’s help. He _has_ to go into the city, into the Conclave’s headquarters. 

But for that he needs a car.

As promised, Johnny waits for him by the door of his own bar, a cigarette perched on his lips. It’s been a while since Doyoung last saw him smoke, a habit for which he chided Johnny endlessly, but he has no control over his life anymore.

“Hey,” he greets Johnny with a casual nod.

Johnny takes a final drag of his cigarette before throwing it on the ground and stomping on the butt. “Hi. Let’s go inside.” He pulls out a set of heavy looking keys from the pocket of his leather jacket and unlocks the door with ease, pushing it open for Doyoung. 

“I didn’t know you closed before the full moon,” Doyoung comments as he steps inside.

“I don’t want any humans near the pack when they’re all so volatile,” Johnny explains, dropping his keys on the nearest table and taking a seat. “And I don’t want my pack near any sort of alcohol either.”

“That makes sense,” Doyoung agrees, sitting in front of Johnny.

“So what do you want?” The wolf suddenly asks, straight to the point. “I can’t leave the pack without their leader for too long.”

“Right.” Doyoung clears his throat. “Well, I wanted to ask you to accompany me into the city, as soon as possible.”

Johnny raises an unimpressed eyebrow. “You mean you want me to drive you there.” At Doyoung’s incriminating silence, he lets out a dry laugh. “What business do you have in the city, anyway?”

“I need more information on vampires and how to slay them, and I doubt I’ll find it anywhere other than in the Conclave’s library.”

Johnny snorts. “Doyoung, I don’t think the science of vampire slaying is that complex. A stake and a lighter will do.”

“Don’t be simplistic,” Doyoung sneers. “Does silver kill you? Does water melt me?” Johnny rolls his eyes, but he doesn’t try to argue. “I won’t risk putting Jaehyun in danger because I decided to trust campfire stories on how to fight vampires.”

“And leaving him in town while you run off to the city isn’t putting him in danger?”

“Well, obviously I’m taking him with me.”

Johnny gives him a deadpan look. “Doyoung, I’m not taking you and your little boyfriend on a date to the city.”

“What are you, fifteen? This has nothing to do with what we used to have, or with what Jaehyun and I are right now. Did you not hear the news about the girl who was found drained of blood? We could be saving many lives, not just Jaehyun’s, if we get rid of him.”

Johnny crosses his arms on his chest. Despite the inner conflict that he pretends to be debating on, Doyoung knows he’s already won him over. His argument is solid, and Johnny has never been able to deny him of anything. It’s foul play, he knows, to take advantage of Johnny’s giving nature like this, but he’s dead set on this trip to the city. He needs to get rid of Yuta.

“Very well,” Johnny finally agrees, and he raises his index finger. “But on one condition.” 

Doyoung looks at him straight in the eye. “Name it.”

“After this, you’ll never ask me anything again. No more favors, no more manipulation, no more nothing.”

The young witch swallows loudly. It’s a high price to pay, losing Johnny’s favor like this, but it’s something he must do if he wants to succeed. Means to an end. “Fine,” he complies. “I’ll leave you alone once we make it back.”

Johnny smirks in victory. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

⚕

When Jaehyun goes to answer his door after a few impatient doorbell rings, the last person he expects to find is his best friend.

“What are you doing here?” He asks as he steps aside to let Doyoung in.

“I came here to see you,” Doyoung answers, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“But you saw me earlier.”

“And?” Doyoung laughs at him. “I can’t see you twice on the same day?”

“I guess you can, yeah,” Jaehyun murmurs, closing the door. He’s almost forgotten what it feels like to spend the day with Doyoung, those long summer days where nothing happened, and yet they felt so full only because of his best friend’s company.

“Is Mr. Jung home?” Doyoung inquires once he notices the shiny pair of dress shoes in the entrance.

“Unfortunately,” Jaehyun sighs as he walks to the kitchen, Doyoung behind him. “He and my mom ganged up on me today.”

Doyoung frowns as he takes a seat on one of the stools. “What happened?”

Jaehyun pours his friend a glass of lemonade as he talks. “They want to track my every move like I’m fourteen again. All because of that girl that died near here. Did you hear about that?”

Doyoung blinks at him a couple of times. “Oh, yeah,” he remembers, taking the glass of lemonade from Jaehyun’s hands. “Taeil told me about it earlier. I understand why they’re afraid, to be honest.”

Jaehyun serves himself another glass and takes a long gulp. “I don’t see how me living my life differently would prevent anything. If a serial killer wants to kill me, they’ll kill me, house arrest or not.”

Doyoung stares at the bottom of his glass, pensively. “Do you think they’ll let you skip that house arrest for a trip into the city?”

Jaehyun’s eyes widen. “A trip into the city? Why would I want to go all the way into the city?”

“There’s something I need to do there, and I want you to come with me,” Doyoung confesses, avoiding Jaehyun’s eyes.

“You want me to go with you?” Jaehyun finds himself to be genuinely surprised. Even though he and Doyoung haven’t been fighting for long, the breach has managed to dig itself deep in between them, aggravated by both of their passionate and stubborn characters, as well as the depth of their feelings. He wasn’t expecting Doyoung to include him in his plans like this, especially after how they ended things last night.

“Of course I want you to come with me,” Doyoung tells him, finally looking up. “I can’t go anywhere without you.”

Jaehyun feels his ears and cheeks light up, and this time he’s the one avoiding his best friend’s eyes. “Okay, yeah,” he says as he toys with the glass in his hand. “I’ll see if I can convince them, but it’s not like I need their permission to do anything.”

“So you’ll come, then?” Doyoung asks with a smile.

“I will.” Jaehyun returns his smile, and everything feels right.

⚕

It takes a couple of days for the human boy to show up at the Manor again, all rosy cheeks and dimpled smiles.

“Jaehyunnie!” Yuta greets him with a surprised grin and a soft press of lips. “What brings you here?” 

“I have something to tell you,” the boy says as he lets himself inside. Slowly but surely, he’s ridding himself of that heavy burden of timidity, at least around Yuta; it’s a sign of maturity, but it’s also one of _trust_ , and Yuta tries to hide his predatory smirk under a cheeky one. 

“So tell me, love.” He takes Jaehyun’s hands in his. They’re soft and dainty and oh so very warm. 

“I will be away for a couple of days next week. Hopefully less than a week, but Doyoung has kept quiet about why he wants to go into the city in the first place, so I’m not really sure how long his business will take.” 

“You’re going into the city?” Yuta asks with concern. The city is a dangerous place, ridden with creatures of all kinds, some of them much more dangerous and vicious than Yuta himself. And Jaehyun is nothing if not succulent, the permanent blush on his cheeks so enticing it’s like he's asking to be bitten. If he lets Jaehyun go into the city unprotected, he risks losing his prey to some other thirsty and careless vampire. 

Jaehyun nods, his boyish bangs falling over his eyes. “Doyoung asked me to accompany him, and I can’t really say no to him when it comes to, well, anything.” 

That nosey, stupid witch. He can’t seem to let go of Jaehyun, even for a couple of days. 

Yuta had been warned about the presence of witches in this area, of course, but he’d assumed it couldn’t be any worse than in the city. Besides, he wasn’t exactly allowed to operate outside of the system—if the Conclave were to find him unsupervised, he’d surely face a fate much harsher than exile. 

He leads Jaehyun into the first living room, urging him to sit in one of the sofas. “Love," he says as he sits next to him, caressing the side of his face with care, “thank you for telling me.” 

Jaehyun blushes again, slightly embarrassed, but a small smile of satisfaction appears on his face. “I wanted you to know why I wasn’t coming to visit.” 

Yuta pinches Jaehyun’s chin with two fingers and forces him to look up. “So attentive,” he breathes against Jaehyun’s lips before pressing a firm kiss on the boy’s mouth. “Thank you for telling me. Now I’ll know not to miss you.” 

Jaehyun pouts in mock offense, following Yuta’s joke seamlessly, which prompts the vampire to kiss the sulk out of his human’s face. 

“Here,” he calls Jaehyun’s attention as he unclasps one of his favorite necklaces, a ruby stone embedded in a silver crust. It’s drenched in his scent—dead roses and coppery blood—and it’ll serve as a warning for other vampires not to target the boy or even approach him. He belongs to Yuta now.

“For me?” Jaehyun’s eyes sparkle with glee as Yuta wraps his arms around his neck, clasping the necklace behind his head.

“There you go.” Yuta caresses his neck, pressing his thumb against the pumping artery, which throbs under his touch. “A token of my appreciation, so you won’t forget me in the big city.” He’s about to lean in to steal another kiss when he hears the backdoor open, the one that leads to the garden. It’s not a door he ever leaves open, or one that he could have forgotten to close, and the noise sets him on edge immediately. He knows there’s only one person other than Jaehyun who would dare visit unannounced, considering how weary the people in town are of him. 

He leans back to look into Jaehyun’s eyes. The human boy seems unaware of the noise, and he gives Yuta a boyish grin. “What is it? Tired of kissing me already?” 

Yuta pecks his mouth again to distract him. “Never, love. I just remembered there’s some business I have to take care of urgently. Do you mind coming back tomorrow?”

Jaehyun blinks once, twice, confused by the sudden rejection, and then he nods, the tops of his ears red as a tomato. He tries—and fails—to mask the embarrassment behind a nervous smile as he pushes himself up off the couch. “It’s okay.” He lets out a pitiful chuckle, playing with Yuta’s necklace. “I have a trip to plan, anyway.”

The hair on the back of Yuta’s neck rises as the footsteps approach them, slow but steady.

“I promise to help you tomorrow,” he says against Jaehyun’s cheek before pressing one last kiss, guiding the boy to the main door. “Why don’t I visit you instead? I can help you choose some fashionable city-appropriate outfits.”

Jaehyun’s fase lights up at Yuta’s offer, and he nods again, this time much more fervently. “Perfect!” He waves a pretty hand at the vampire as he climbs down the stone steps. “I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Good luck with your urgent matters!”

Yuta blows him a kiss before pushing the door closed and letting out a long sigh of relief.

“That was awfully reckless of you,” he speaks, forehead resting on the wooden door, fully aware of his unexpected visitor’s presence behind him.

“I couldn’t help it,” Taeyong sighs dramatically. “Jaehyun was always so lovely. I was hoping you’d let me have a peek, but I can see you’ve become dangerously possessive.”

Yuta turns around to glare murderously at Taeyong. “It’s not about possessiveness, it’s about him not laying eyes on his best friend’s missing brother. What do you think would happen if your family found out you’re not only alive and well, but back in town?”

Taeyong gives him the sharpest smirk he’s ever seen. “Oh, there would be _blood_. Isn’t that what you want?” He wraps his arms around Yuta’s neck seductively, but the vampire pushes him away.

“I do, but not yet. If we rush this, we might ruin the opportunity. And trust me, we won’t get a better one.”

“I’m doing everything I can to help,” Taeyong argues, walking into the living room and dropping himself in a loveseat. “I’ve given you this town, as well as your prey.”

“That you have.” Yuta follows him, taking a seat in one of the armchairs. “Speaking of, when were you planning on telling me about the wolves?”

Taeyong rolls on the couch until he’s lying on his belly, and he taps his bottom lip, pretending to be lost in thought. “Oops,” is what he comes up with. “I didn’t think they’d be a threat. They were always nice to me and Doyoungie. A bit too nice,” he winks.

“Yeah, well, you are witches. Not exactly predatory creatures now, are you?” Yuta claims, but the daring look in Taeyong’s eyes is enough to prove him wrong. He swallows before continuing. “There are rules amongst predators. I am in their territory, and I have made it my feeding ground. It won't take long for them to snap, and I’d rather not get torn to shreds by an angry pack of vicious wolves.”

Taeyong stands from the loveseat and he walks up to Yuta confidently. “Don’t worry, babe,” he reassures Yuta as he toys with one of the vampire’s dangly earrings. “I’ll handle it so they won’t be bothering us any time soon. Besides, it’s the full moon tonight. Luck is on my side.”

“What are you scheming?” Yuta asks the dark witch, but all he gets in response is a blinding flash of red from Taeyong’s crimson eyes.

⚕

Doyoung wakes up to the persistent sound of his buzzing phone, which lies on his pillow, right next to his head. He’d fallen asleep while doing some research online, throughout which he’d only found abandoned forums and sketchy sexual websites.

The vibration is annoying enough to pull him out of his incorruptible slumber, and he palms his pillow blindly until his fingers meet the cold material. He accepts the call without looking at the ID first, and presses it to his ear. 

“Hello?” He says, voice hoarse from sleep.

“Doyoung.” It’s Johnny. The somberness in his voice slaps Doyoung awake faster than the phone ever could, and he sits up in his bed.

“Johnny? Is everything okay? What time is it?” He looks around his room, which has been swallowed by nightfall, and yet is lit by an almost eerily strong glow—the Full Moon.

“I…” Johnny falls silent for a few seconds, collecting his thoughts. “I don’t think I’ll be able to accompany you to the city.”

“ _What_?” Doyoung runs a hand through his hair in frustration. “I think it’s too late to have this conversa—”

“I must take care of my pack first and foremost,” Johnny states with finality.

A chill runs down Doyoung’s spine. “Did something happen?”

Johnny lets out a heavy sigh on the other end of the line. “Jisung he— He’s had it under control for months, I don’t understand how—” The wolf takes a deep, shuddering breath. “He lost control tonight. He _bit_ someone, Doyoung.”

“Oh, _fuck_ , John.” Doyoung buries his face in his hand, mortified. “How bad is it? Is it someone we know?”

“That’s the worst part,” Johnny growls in repressed anger. “Doyoung, he bit the botany boy. He bit Jeno.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OOF I am SO sorry this took so long TT quarantine was horrible for my mental health, and I was also working on something else that will be published soon enough hehe :) regardless, I wanna apologize again for the unexpected hiatus and also thank you to those who waited so patiently for this update <3 i'll try to update soon!


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